


The Princess and the Captain

by gotabingley



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Romance, Slow Burn, not too much period-typical sexism, planets are kingdoms here, swords and crossbows and horses oh my, the sequel trilogy in extreeeeemely broad strokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 143,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24931177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotabingley/pseuds/gotabingley
Summary: "It had been two years, and she still had never seen his face."When Rey is revealed to be the heir to the Naboo throne, her life changes in ways she only ever imagined in her dreams. But when the Lord Protector Snoke reveals his insidious plans for her, what begins as a dream becomes a living nightmare. Will she be able to defeat the regent who has held her nation in his iron grip for so long? Will she ever reconcile herself to the new and terrible name she must bear? And what part does the mysterious Captain of the infamous Knights of Ren have to play in her quest?
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 439
Kudos: 323





	1. Queen in Training

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! And thanks for clicking on this story. If you've read my other work on this site, you may be wondering if I'm ever going to get back to it. The answer is I don't know. When COVID really hit, I was one of those who lost a good deal of motivation for creative efforts, even though I suddenly had the time for it in quarantine. That see-saw effect, I guess. Anyway, this idea started percolating in my head and I finally felt motivated and excited to write THIS (yay for feelings returning!), and I am absolutely determined to finish this one, and hopefully in the process restore my interest in returning to my other story. But enough about that. You clicked on THIS story, and I sincerely hope you enjoy it and the world I've created.

It had been two years, and she still had never seen his face.

Why such a thing mattered to her, she was unsure, but the more time that passed since she was established in the Imperial Court, the more her fascination grew regarding the stoic Captain who never removed his helmet. It could not be a vow of his order, for the knights he commanded were free enough with baring their faces to the world. Indeed, the four who had plucked her out of her life of obscurity, barring some mild forays into banditry, had almost immediately shown themselves to her once it was clear that she could not fight her way out of being collected by them.

Even in the furthest reaches of the Jakkuvian desert, Rey had heard of the fearsome Knights of Ren who served Lord Protector Snoke of the Naboo Empire; though, it had been long since it had truly been an empire. Years before her birth, its clutches on the surrounding lands disintegrated, and individual sovereignty was restored to the countries known as the Nine Realms, territories the Dread Emperor had once gathered under his cruel reign. After his defeat, Naboo survived only as its own kingdom in the west. It was not long before Snoke rose to power and he was king of Naboo in all but name. The Knights of Ren were a more recent byword throughout the Realms, but tales of their exploits were uttered with terror.

When they had suddenly appeared outside her ramshackle hide-out, though she had yet to know their identity, she had quickly calculated the chances that she could fight them off. The odds were decidedly not in her favor. Being outmanned in a fight was not uncommon for her, and not even unheard of for her to win, but she was no match for four of these obviously well-trained warriors, and she knew when it was in her best interest to lower her bow and simply run.

It had been a surprise, though, to learn not only who they were, but to find that they were not at all interested in a fight. Rather, after catching her mid-flight they merely bound her hands and, with the exception of some isolated incidents when she spouted off insults and harsh language at them, handled her far more gently than expected. They spoke nothing of their mission to her, but it did not take long for her to realize they had readied themselves for travel, and she was being taken away from the only homeland she had ever known. 

They passed through desert and rocky hills, crossing the northern border of Jakku within days, and, after fording the Great River, it was another few weeks on the winding forest roads of Endor before reaching the crossroads that would take them into Naboo. Upon reaching their native country, they even gave her a horse when they were reunited with their own mounts. She knew absolutely nothing of riding such a terrific beast, which was probably why they arrogantly trusted that she could not escape them. One thing was clear, though, despite the little they communicated to her: she was valuable to someone, though she could not fathom why. This mystery made her profoundly curious, and stayed her instincts to flee.

It was not much longer before her curiosity was appeased, as they arrived at the stone walls of Theed barely a week after crossing into Naboo. Judging from the sidelong glances of her captor-companions, they probably expected her to be impressed, as the largest villages they had passed had been home to perhaps a couple hundred occupants at the most. In contrast, the capital city was vast and crowded, overwhelming to her urchin eyes. But she found it hard to be impressed when confronted with the squalor and pitiful circumstances of the people who lived on the outskirts of the capital. Even more disgusting to her was the callous and dismissive manner of her captors as they rode by with not even a second glance for the poor children who reached out their hands for alms.

She did have to admit as they followed the road leading to the palace at the center of the city, that the prospects of the buildings and people did improve, but it was not enough to banish the images of the “rabble” she felt more akin to than those she rode alongside. Still she wondered where their final destination was. They served the Lord Protector, who likely lived in the magnificent royal home, but surely she was beneath his notice, and these knights must have been lent out as some favor to a courtier or some other Imperial sycophant. But what was her surprise and dismay when their path never veered away from the palace, and she was led past the gates, forced to dismount, and then led inside its towering walls!

Her nerves were high, and her rising fear distracted her from observing the splendor of the halls. She was only vaguely aware of servants and guards, couriers and pages that scattered before the knights as one gripped her arm, steering her toward a large pair of wooden doors, at least the height of three men. Her voice was gone, throat dry, and she could not find it in herself to protest at their handling of her, when one of the great doors opened with an echoing, booming crack. A man in full armor, helmet affixed on his head, visor down, exited the unknown chamber beyond and stopped them in their tracks.

This had been her first glimpse of Kylo, Captain of the Knights of Ren, and from the very moment she stood before him, she knew no other man could possibly command such a terrifying group. His mottled armor was heavy and cumbersome, but he walked as though it was a second skin, and it was clear that even without the intimidating addition of the bulky metal, he was a large man who gave command with expectation of absolute obedience. She could not see his face, but she knew that she stood before one who would not be crossed.

“So, you have returned,” were his first words, muffled by his helmet, but measured and precise. His head dipped ever so slightly, and Rey was certain he was studying her, for all his eyes were hidden from view. “No problems, I trust?”

“None, my lord,” was the reply of the man who held her arm. “She was exactly where we had been informed.”

“Of course she was,” came the level voice of their Captain. “The Lord Protector is never mistaken.”

Without another word, he shot out a gauntleted arm, taking swift hold of her and drawing her away from the hand of her erstwhile captor. Though she remained silent, she could not stop the questioning glance of alarm to the knights. She had certainly never learned to like these men, but at the very least they were familiar. This unknown stranger, this man whose look she felt all the more keenly for not seeing his face, only increased her dread and fear at the mystery of what brought her here. For what nefarious purpose had she been stolen away? What horrors would this Captain lead her into?

No words were spoken to comfort her, however, as the Captain pushed her through the door, and it was here, in this large chamber that she would come to learn was the throne room, sitting on a gilded chair, a step below the top of a dais, she first saw the lean, withered, and scarred weasel of a man who styled himself the Lord Protector -- Snoke. Even from a distance, she knew she hated the sight of him, his smug smirk clear upon his face as the Captain herded her forward. No doubt he thought she hadn’t marked his expression, for as she came closer, it changed from smugness to a feigned concern. She didn’t know which expression was worse.

But then he spoke, and the words he spoke shocked her so greatly that she forgot to loathe him as disbelief consumed her.

“Welcome!” he crooned in an oily voice. “Welcome, my dear Rey. Oh, I must crave your pardon! Welcome, your Highness! Welcome, my dear Princess Rey!”

* * *

As if she didn’t already know her life had drastically altered, the revelation that she was the long-lost granddaughter of the long-dead emperor stunned her beyond measure. No longer was she a scavenging waif, barely able to keep from starving; no, now she was a princess, heir to a throne, destined to be a queen, with all the expectations accompanying such an elevation.

Almost immediately she was assigned a tutor, a black-robed bishop with flaming red hair who made it clear that he had much better things to do with his time, but was so devoted to Snoke that he could not refuse the command to take her in hand. He had been amazed and annoyed to discover that he would have to begin with the rudimentary task of teaching her to read, and went about his duties with a reluctant diligence. Rey was no more fond of Hux than he was of her, but she was eager to take advantage of the opportunity to learn.

Rey was nothing if not practical. She knew that the rapid change in her fortune could be pulled away from her just as abruptly. Her meager beginnings had taught her that very well. She had to take whatever advantage she could while it was offered. So, despite the evil reputation of the Naboo Empire’s past and the immediate loathing she felt for its ruler who now acted as her guardian, she was not about to turn down a comfortable bed and more than enough food to fill her belly. Not to mention that there were other benefits that came with being a princess, namely beautiful clothes (a commodity she hadn’t known she’d care for until she saw them), warm baths, and a tiny world being opened and expanded to her view. She still wasn’t terribly happy about the fate she was handed, but she could enjoy the advantages.

With the ability to read came knowledge and new ideas, which only served to add a myriad of facets to her already-active imagination. A lifetime of solitude had honed and sharpened it when she was not tied up in ensuring her own survival, and exposure to literature and history gave her new worlds to imagine in her leisure time. Not to mention theories to ponder on why exactly the Captain never removed his helmet.

At least once a week, she was summoned by Snoke, to be examined in her progress to queenhood, and Kylo (she could never settle in her mind whether or not to call him that -- it was either that or ‘the Captain’) was often there in the private office that abutted the Royal Library, standing as a sentinel at the elbow of the Lord Protector. Or at the door like a mere page when Snoke was displeased with him, which, for the first few months of her tenure at the palace, was a rare occurrence. Rey told herself not to be distracted by his presence, but her private musings about him would not be quelled, even when being questioned by Snoke.

Was he a deformed, hideous brute? A hidden twin of some cruel sovereign? Was he the member of some secret brotherhood that bound him to oaths not even practiced by his knights? On a more practical note, was he not sweltering hot in his self-imposed disguise? Did he ever eat? Or sleep? She found herself at times willing him to look her way, so that she might directly question him, but since her arrival, she had never conversed with him. He may as well have been a statue as a living, breathing enigma of a man. But for all she did not know about him, she was sure there was a great secret about his identity.

Aside from Hux and her relentlessly tall lady-in-waiting, the only other person she spoke with on a regular basis was a palace guard named Finn. Their first interaction had been accidental, as they had bumped into each other while rounding their respective corners of a passage, but it was a relief to Rey to find that not everyone was bound to silence or decorum in moments of discomposure.

“Blast!” he had cried out as his spear clattered to the floor. Without sparing a glance her way, he swatted her outstretched hand to keep her from retrieving it for him. “No, no, don’t bother. It’s mine to care for.”

He picked up his spear, straightened to his full height, smiled briefly so that Rey got the impression of a wide mouth and straight teeth (a rarity), but his smile immediately faded as recognition dawned. He formed a hasty bow, muttering apologies, but she put out her hand again to stop him.

“There is no need. We were both clumsy, and there is no harm done.”

He nodded once in abject gratitude for her mercy, to which she inwardly rolled her eyes. It was ridiculous to think that a mere accident could have even a palace guard so frightened of the punishments Snoke could devise. And what was more, Finn’s mild epithet had given her the most human experience she had felt in months, brief as it was, and she was keen to prolong it.

It had taken some convincing on her part, but Finn eventually did let down his guard, and they were soon meeting in the early-morning hours before Hux awakened to spar in the garrison, both hoping to improve their skills with the sword. Rey’s fighting experience had been almost exclusively hand-to-hand, though she had experimented with a bow the last year or so before leaving Jakku. Finn, being a page-turned-soldier, was not deemed worthy to train with some of the more pompous guards, much less the Knights of Ren, who had their own quarters and training hall. All in all, she and Finn were evenly matched, and though conversation was limited, what little they exchanged was easy and amicable.

Rey was glad to have found a friend, though she suspected it was not strictly allowed. Another disadvantage to being born to royalty, she was learning. After one of the first furtive meetings with Finn, as she sneaked across the inner courtyard to return to her chambers, she felt a prickle of watchfulness on the back of her neck and glanced up to the balcony lining the second story. The contrast of the building’s shadow and bright light of dawn played tricks on her eyes for a few moments, but as her gaze focused where her premonition led her, there was no mistaking the lurking figure standing above her, his face infuriatingly hidden from view, his arms folded across his broad chest.

The Captain’s silent presence goaded her, and she felt her quick temper rising. She was tempted to yell up at him and challenge him in some way, wanting to dare him to put a stop to her actions. But though her temper was fiery, there was enough of foreboding that halted her words before she formed them. All they did for those few moments was merely stare in a battle of wills. Rey looked away first.

But it appeared he revealed nothing to Snoke of her activities, so she was at liberty to continue. She had to admit a begrudging gratitude to him for his secrecy. There was still so much about her situation that overwhelmed and stifled her natural impulses; at least she was allowed this one outlet to feel a little bit more like herself.

* * *

Rey’s education quickly became a double-edged sword. Her learning was rapid, and as she progressed in knowledge, the more she questioned. And the more questions she had, the more frequent were her arguments with her tutor.

“No, no, no, your Highness,” Hux exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers in exasperation. “What you suggest will lead only to insurrection and anarchy! Why would the Lord Protector alter the rules of court when the established order is working perfectly well?”

Rey pursed her lips, remembering the snatches of conversation between Snoke and his Captain as she had left one of her recent appointments with the Lord Protector. It seemed there was trouble in one of the western provinces, and the Knights of Ren would be dispatched to subdue the rebellion of the, as Hux so eloquently labelled them, “common people”. Was Hux so blind in his worship of Snoke (rather than the Lord he claimed to exult in) that he really believed all was in perfect order? The continued absence of the Captain for a few weeks gave the lie to Hux’s delusion.

“But what is the purpose of a court, after all, Hux?” she argued back. “If not to lead the citizens of the nation,  _ all _ of them, to peace and prosperity? If the Lord Protector does not listen to his governors and the needs of the people, why have a court at all? Why continue the farce of summoning the governors of the counties if his will is law, whether they like it or not?”

“You speak dangerously, Princess,” Hux warned in a low voice. “Why should the governors not approve of the Lord Protector’s doings? Would you have them rule over  _ him _ ? Disrupt the hierarchy of rule? Dismantle everything your honored grandfather sought to establish?”

Rey’s nostrils flared at the mention of the Dread Emperor. Whatever her relation to him might have done to change her station, and she felt a great deal of resentment for that twist of fate, over a year of mindless droning by Hux and careful words by Snoke (Rey knowing very well that omissions were being made, though she did not have the knowledge yet of where to fill in the gaps) was not enough to change a lifetime’s prejudice against the Tyrant of the Northern Mountains. There was still evidence of his past cruelty in the surrounding lands, and it was clear in her observations of Snoke that he did not deviate from the example of his former master.

“What harm would it really do for the Lord Protector to lead with cooperation in mind? One need only look to Alderaan to see --”

“Ah, yes, Alderaan,” Hux interrupted smoothly, his features twisted in distaste. “That hotbed of bureaucracy and chaos. Yes, their court is surely an example to follow.”

“I believe the queen is happy to lead alongside her fellow nobles, rather than stomping them underfoot.”

Hux smiled contemptuously. “I would be wary of making a hero of Leia, Princess. She is just as capable of ‘stomping others underfoot’ as any sovereign.”

But whatever turmoil she felt from her arguments with Hux, at least he gave her the respect to argue with her. Unlike Snoke, who never varied in his manner of speaking to her as though she were an ignorant child.

What was most galling was his habit of doing so during the monthly gatherings of the county governors in the throne room. Rey never liked these meetings, knowing that her required appearance was as some ornament for Snoke to flaunt as though she lent authority to his orders. She had been met at first with gawking and stares, then irritation, then bored tolerance by the governors. As she was truly ignorant of state affairs at the outset, she didn’t feel comfortable speaking up, even when she had an opinion. But though her silence was necessary as she began her education, it was still taken as a given by the governors as the months passed and her knowledge grew, a fact which made her want to scream (an inclination she often indulged in the privacy of her bedchamber).

What kept her from exploding outright at the men and women during these meetings was using her perceived dumbness to study them, and to ascertain the measure of loyalty they had to Snoke. There were a handful of Hux’s ilk who parroted and followed Snoke’s every command gladly. Others, she could tell, were simply opportunistic, not necessarily agreeing with him or his methods, but glad to be in any position of authority. Still more merely cowered in fear before him, afraid to counter his edicts because of what he could do to them and their districts. But what more could he do, she wondered. Half the time the counties were already in disarray from all the civil strife.

In Rey’s opinion, this was no way to run a country, and pretending this charade constituted a true court was insulting to all involved. Already irritated by her constant go-arounds with Hux, she did not stop herself from snorting in derision one day after a particularly repugnant comment was made by Lady Neruna about subduing the discontented “riffraff” in her county.

All eyes turned to Rey, Lady Neruna’s eyes narrowing in anger at the display. Snoke, however, had merely raised his eyebrows in mild curiosity. If he was ever angry, he never showed it.

“Something to add, your Highness?” he questioned, and Rey’s hackles rose in response. The term of respect never failed to sound mocking from Snoke’s lips.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” she responded boldly, and turned to face Lady Neruna head-on. “Perhaps if you remembered your citizens are people and not cattle to be whipped into submission, you might inspire some loyalty and wouldn’t spend most of your time trying to put down ‘the riffraff’.”

A few soft gasps echoed through the chamber, and Lady Neruna’s face flushed in anger, but before she could speak, Snoke’s ghostly chuckle broke the tension.

“You must forgive her Highness, my lady,” he chortled, “she is still too young to realize that idealistic fantasies are not a valid form of government. We must grant her some allowances, of course, considering her upbringing, such as it was.”

Now it was Rey’s face that turned red, and she was ready to snap out an angry retort at the insulting way Snoke dismissed her words, but again he anticipated a rise in temper and waved his ever-present Captain over, saying at the same time, “Perhaps it would be best to send her Highness back to her tutor. We need not agitate her troubled mind any longer.”

Her eyes bulged, and she took a deep breath to hurl out a furious invective against him, but Kylo’s hand at her elbow stopped her. He was merely performing his duty to escort her away, but at that moment, she couldn’t help feeling his touch was a warning. She swallowed back her words, nodded shortly to the company, and, shaking off the guiding hand of the Captain, she stalked out of the throne room without another word.

Later that same day she was summoned to Snoke’s private office, and it was curious that Kylo had been stationed at the door rather than at Snoke’s side. What had he done to earn Snoke’s ire?

Rey stood before Snoke like a truant child receiving a scolding, but she could hold herself back only so long before her anger overpowered her, and she interrupted Snoke’s harangue on loyalty.

“What you espouse, Lord Protector, is no more loyalty than my chamberpot is full of wine.”

A flash passed over Snoke’s face, but he schooled his features so quickly that Rey almost believed she imagined it. She couldn’t stand this man, but did she envy his self-control.

“Oh? Then do enlighten me, Princess. What we have established in this country you shall inherit is obedience and order. Tell me how that is not evidence of loyalty.”

“It is simple. The people obey out of fear. That is not loyalty. The instant someone more powerful challenges you, the people’s allegiance will change. If you and your governors inspired true loyalty, earned it rather than demanding it, you would have no need to fear the people’s reprisals against you.”

“I? Fear the people?” He looked positively amused. “I hold too much power to fear the people. As will you, when you come into your own.”

“I won’t have power over anyone if you continue to treat me like a child in front of the nobility,” she snarled.

He waved his hands in that dismissive gesture that made her want to strangle him. “Oh, that. That is nothing. I am simply saving you from yourself; your courtiers will not give you any support at all if you continue to express such naive opinions. You will be as susceptible to betrayal as was your grandfather if you show any weakness of sentiment.”

“If I remember correctly, it was not sentiment that was my grandfather’s downfall,” she rejoined bitterly.

“Oh, yes, my dear,” Snoke returned silkily. “Sentiment. Perhaps not your grandfather’s, for he would not brook such weakness in himself, but sentiment was still what destroyed him, the sentiment he was not able to crush in his captain.”

A slight shuffling sound rustled behind Rey, but she did not chance a look back to where the Captain stood.

“Yes, Lord Vader gave way to sentiment, allowing that Skywalker filth to influence him,” Snoke continued with a malicious glint in his eye, his gaze flitting to and from Rey, which was unnerving. “And if you do not want to meet the same end, you must not allow anyone --  _ anyone -- _ to think that they are allowed such ideals and passions. That is what will destroy  _ you _ , your Highness. You must keep everyone, even those who imagine they are closest to you, under your thumb, and never let them forget who is in control, who holds the power. Only in that way will you  _ maintain _ control. So kill those foolish ideals; you will always  _ be _ a child if you cling to them.”

Hot tears tracked down her cheeks as she flung herself onto the bed after that particular interlude. She hardly gave way to tears, but she was hatefully resentful in the face of her humiliation. Belittled and dejected in the face of such a harsh lesson, she felt the stirrings of doubt chipping away at her principles. But she could not give way to such teachings. She would not.

It was then she realized what she wanted. Over a year of being unsure of her station and what she was being forced into, struggling against the birthright she hadn’t asked for and keeping silent in the face of a strange environment and people. No more. She might maintain her silence, but no longer because she was afraid or uncertain. No, she would simply bide her time and study the enemy within her ranks. She would be queen, and gladly. Not only that, but she would be a great and mighty queen, if for no other reason, to prove Snoke wrong and become a far better ruler than he ever had been.


	2. The Question of Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans and intentions are made clear, but Rey is still taken by surprise more than once.

Rey had reached her age of majority not long after her arrival in Theed, but she had been persuaded at the time to delay her installation as queen and allow Snoke to serve as regent while she learned the ways of royalty. Despite her dislike of him, she considered it a reasonable proposition, and since she had yet to embrace her future role, she hadn’t been at all eager to become queen. But by the time two years had passed, her resolve had hardened and she anticipated the delayed event, wondering when it might actually take place. She was cautious in her expectations, unwilling to set off a series of unfortunate events for her people (little as she knew them, she had begun to think of them as hers) by pushing the Lord Protector, but in her heart she began to grow impatient. Snoke said not a word.

In the meantime, she was given an opportunity to vent her frustrations not only in her combat training with Finn, but on the unsuspecting ambassadors and nobility from the Realms that began to descend upon her in her second year in the palace. Marriage alliances were proposed and summarily rejected by her guardian, for which she was grateful. Preparing to rule a kingdom was daunting enough, but to add marriage at the same time? It was the one thing she was in wholehearted agreement with Snoke, much as it pained her to admit it. She didn’t even much care why Snoke denied the suitors who came flocking to Theed; the point was that they never stayed beyond a week.

Not only were they denied formally by Snoke, but they were deterred by her outbursts of temper at precisely the wrong times (or the right times, as she planned), and more than once had she used her knee effectively when a man’s hands began wandering uninvited on her person. The unhappy victim would invariably fall upon his own knees in pain, and the Captain would appear, though previously unseen, and, with more violence than was strictly necessary, escort the man out of her sight.

This less-than-diplomatic approach made Rey worry that she was in for another series of unpleasant rebukes from her guardian, but Snoke laughed uproariously at the first report of such an encounter, and practically encouraged her unruly behavior. She didn’t wish to display herself for his amusement, but at least it was one less battle she had to navigate with him.

The latest emissary appeared on the second anniversary of her arrival at the Imperial Court, and was in all respects a courteous man, so Rey knew she would have no recourse to violence, which was just as well. The Knights of Ren, led by their inscrutable Captain, were away executing the latest orders of the Lord Protector, and she wondered vaguely who would have appeared to hustle away an unwanted admirer if Kylo was not there to do it. In a strange way, she had come to depend on his support.

Did he support her, though? Perhaps this was the question that captured her interest regarding him. During all her time in the palace, he had given no indication that the unflagging loyalty he gave Snoke would transfer to her once she wore the crown. Neither had she been given reason to fear his dissent. She never felt quite at ease in his presence, yet her agitation rose every time he was assigned to labor away from the capital. She spent more time than was needful wondering about him, his history and motivations, and most of all, what would be revealed if she snatched that helmet off his head.

The emissary from Canto Bight had departed not long before the Knights returned to Theed. It was the Captain’s custom to report to Snoke immediately upon his return, and Rey was attending Snoke in his office when Kylo appeared. She noted the slight hesitation in his body as he registered her presence, but he smoothly dropped to a knee, bowing his head as he greeted Snoke.

The Lord Protector was slow to respond, taking an unrolled scroll of parchment into one hand, while he drummed the fingers of his other hand on the marbled table before him. Rey was privy enough to his moods by now to know Snoke was displeased, and she reflected that, lately, more often than not the Lord Protector and his Captain were at odds with each other. Kylo had been stationed more frequently at the door rather than at Snoke’s left hand, something that used to be a rarity. She wasn’t sure why, for Kylo obeyed Snoke’s commands as much as he had ever done. Was she about to be given a glimpse into the reason behind the simmering tension?

“I must admit I am disturbed by the reports your lieutenant sent me, Captain,” Snoke began, his eyes focused on the parchment he held.

A pause. “Disturbed, your Grace?” The familiar muffled tone betrayed no surprise.

“Yes, I believe your orders were to . . . take care . . . of the uprisings of the Gungan villages out west.”

“And I upheld your orders, your Grace.”

“With exactness?”

Another pause. “I did what I deemed appropriate.”

Snoke’s pock-marked lip curled into a sneer. “What _you_ deemed appropriate? I made it very clear to what lengths you were to go to ensure such a revolt would never happen again.”

“With respect, your Grace,” Kylo responded, finally lifting his head up, “it was not necessary to execute -”

“Respect?!?” Snoke spat out, rising to his feet. “You dare to use that word, Captain? Respect would have been shown if you had done what I commanded. And yet your lieutenant tells me that you spared more lives than not.”

Rey’s insides froze. What exactly had been Snoke’s orders? Whatever they were, she was glad that Kylo had not performed them.

“What kind of kingdom would it be, your Grace, if there were no subjects to rule?” Even through the helmet, the irony in Kylo’s voice was clear.

“Do not show impudence, boy,” Snoke ordered in a snarl. “You forget yourself; it is not your place to make decisions of that sort.”

“Forgive me,” came the drawling reply. “But you were not there, Lord Protector, and I believe the promises you made me when I entered your service gave me leave to proceed as I saw fit for the good of this nation which you hold _in trust_.”

The emphasis which he gave his final words was not lost on either Rey or Snoke, and Rey had to press her lips together to keep from chuckling. No wonder there was heightened stress between the two men if Kylo was offering up obedience mixed with insubordination. In two words, the Captain had reminded his leader that the grip he had held on Naboo since the passing of the Dread Emperor would not last much longer. It gave Rey a grim satisfaction to see Snoke put so thoroughly in his place.

Snoke, for his part, reared back at Kylo’s words, and he spared a glance Rey’s way before speaking again. “Stand up, Captain,” he hissed, and Kylo obeyed at once. “We are not finished yet,” Snoke said, and with a jerk of his head, he motioned his Captain to take his place at the door.

Turning to Rey, he gave one of his false smiles, and she repressed a shiver. She would not be allowed to leave now for all the wealth of Naboo, not when Snoke was publicly disadvantaged. He would not release her until he had the high ground again.

“And you, my Princess,” his tone changed to that oily drip that was as slippery as it was venomous. “What have you done to serve your country as our esteemed Captain has?”

She cocked her head in confusion. This was an unexpected question. “Your point, sir?”

“Well, surely you must know that it is in the best interests of Naboo that once you have taken your place as queen, you do not want a succession crisis on your hands.”

“Excuse me?” Rey’s eyes narrowed.

“The question of marriage, of course, your Highness,” Snoke went on as though his point was obvious. “Your people will feel far more secure if you take steps to ensure your line continues.”

She felt as though a stone had been dropped into her stomach. Snoke, who had treated the idea of her marrying as lightly as she had, was now exposing her delaying tactics as a flaw? Tactics that he had approved of and supported by his own actions, if not his words. And he brought this up now, in front of the Captain?

“Oh, now, now, I know I have done my part to dissuade your many suitors,” he waved off her argument before she could even speak, “but perhaps I have been wrong to consider the matter so cavalierly.”

“I have yet to find a man who meets with my approval. Surely my opinion matters in the question of _my_ marriage,” Rey managed in a steely tone.

“Of course,” he wheedled and oozed. “And I must say I have been amused by your efforts to protect your virtue beforehand. Chastity in women is a celebrated thing, naturally, and the queen must set an example of . . . purity,” he drew out the last word with a hint of lasciviousness. She could not control the hot blush that creeped up her neck. For him to even allude to her chastity was disgusting, and it took every ounce of her self-control to maintain the illusion that she was perfectly calm, despite her red face. She would not give him any more reason to know he rattled her.

“But you will marry,” Snoke’s voice dropped in pitch, becoming far more menacing than she had ever heard it. “Do what you will to guard your maidenhood beforehand, but more delays will do you more harm than good. You must marry, and you must bear children to uphold the Palpatine line. You place yourself at great risk otherwise.”

Her skin crawled as it usually did when someone mentioned the family name she despised. But there was more in Snoke’s manner that made her stomach clench; some hidden message in his words that she was beginning to unravel in her mind.

“Marry. Produce an heir or two. Once you are wed, take a lover, or more if you so wish it. I care not. But bear this in mind, Highness.” He took a step toward her, and Rey forced herself to hold her ground. “No matter the natural father of your children, they _will_ belong to your husband. There will be no question of who rules in your family and this country.”

The bile was rising in her throat at his predatory look, and she could bear him no longer. Forcing back the contents of her dinner, she pushed her way past the rigid Captain, and escaped out the door, putting as much distance between her and the Lord Protector as possible.

She should have questioned his motives as he so carelessly refused the marriage alliances that were offered to her. Of course it was not for her comfort. He had already chosen a husband for her. Himself.

* * *

Rey knew before this that she should have done more to foster relations between herself and the members of the court. But their mutually antagonistic disputes had not given rise to any feeling of trust. And now here she was, forced into a realization that should have occurred to her long before. Snoke had ruled Naboo for longer than she had been alive. She shuddered into her pillow. Of course he would not relinquish control so easily, no matter the claims of her bloodline. And she had no allies to support her against him.

Would she be forced into marriage with this gruesome monster? How dare he put her in this position? Every feeling in her body revolted at the thought of him as her husband. But what choice would she be given? She had foolishly allowed him to retain power, naively assuming that the change of hands would be simple. Perhaps it would be simple, if she agreed to such an alliance. She grimaced again, the acrid taste still burning in her mouth. Two years of learning, and yet she could still be blindsided like a simple-minded idiot.

His suggestion that she take a lover did nothing to soften the blow. He may not relish the idea of sharing a bed with her any more than she did with him (another grimace), but he also had been absolutely clear that any children produced from illicit relations would be under his power. Oh, how she wished now that the knights who had found her in Jakku had simply run her through. Death would be nothing compared to the idea of being chained to such a man, and would it not have served his purposes just as well to dispose of a threat to his rule?

Who could she turn to now? Finn would support her, but his position was low and rallying the troops was not in his power. Hux was out of the question, as he was so blatantly attached to Snoke; he would put the might of the Church behind his revered favorite. Phasma, her lady-in-waiting, had always been ambiguous in her loyalties, but she still spoke too well of the “honored” Lord Protector for Rey to trust her with any confessions or plans.

Kylo? Did the growing tension between him and Snoke amount to his openly rebelling against his master? He had served Snoke at least five years; could he be persuaded into joining her? The recent strife between lord and captain was so novel, she could not be sure that a true hostility had taken root within him. She desperately wished she could be sure of him.

* * *

Snoke seemed to have realized his error; in his humiliated anger, he had tipped his hand too soon, and now he must be cautious. But Rey had seen his mind, and there was no pretending otherwise. However, she could enjoy the respite he gave her from his repulsive company, for a few days at least. She was not summoned to the library or the throne room, and she was allowed meals in her bedchamber without argument. She could bear the solitude cheerfully, were it not for the apprehension that filled her thoughts of what might happen the moment she stepped out her door.

It was late summer, which in Naboo meant muggy, sunny mornings giving way to thunderstorms in the late afternoon. Rey sat at her window that evening, watching the heavy clouds roll in and resenting the way they stole away the colorful beauty of sunset. She also remembered how afraid she had been the first time she saw lightning streak across the slate-gray sky and felt the rumblings of thunder in her bones. Phasma had laughed indulgently and gone about her business as though nothing was untoward. Rey hadn’t appreciated the lack of sympathy, but now she could understand it. Her childish fear had been replaced by determination to weather the storms, for however long they lasted. As she sat in contemplation, she knew there was a lesson to be learned from her recollections.

With a fortifying drink of the wine that came with her supper, she rose to her feet and marched to her door. She threw it open, startling the two men that stood guard outside her room. Without a word to them, she continued her resolute march, not stopping until she reached the courtyard, where the rain poured down as though heaven itself wept. Her gown would be soaked and likely ruined, but she didn’t care.

She stepped out into the rain, allowing it to seep into her skin, drenching her hair, running in rivulets down her face. In a moment of impulsive madness to spite the storm, she began to dance, weaving and whirling around the statues and trees that dotted the courtyard. She was no longer afraid of the storm, and she would no longer be afraid of the man who held her future hostage. She may not have any idea of how to proceed, but she would not be cowed by the threat he posed.

With a final spin, she dared a laugh, one which swiftly turned into a gasp at the discovery of another person in the courtyard. She inhaled water with her intake of breath, and her private moment of empowerment quickly devolved into an anticlimactic coughing fit. The Captain stood waiting, mute and steadfast, under the shelter of the second-story balcony. _How long has he been watching?_ she wondered as her coughing subsided. Embarrassed by her reaction to him, she sheepishly made to move past him and return to her chamber.

Her movement was arrested by his hand grasping her upper arm, and she looked up at him in astonishment. He said nothing, and silence hung heavy between them, his grip firm and unrelenting, her trying not to give heed to the errant thought that she must look like a water-drowned rat. Perhaps now, as he held her in place, was her opportunity to tear that helmet off his head and know just who this man was. Maybe then the thought of him would cease haunting her. But she didn’t give way to the impulse. Somehow this man without a face held a power over her, restraining every instinct with the slightest touch, a hidden message that warned her away even as it invited her in. She was exhausted from the uncertainty, and yet there lingered a tense excitement that accompanied the mystery of him. She was irritated at his iron grip, but neither did she wish for release.

Finally he spoke, his muttering barely heard over the patter of rainfall on the stonework. “You would be safer in your own quarters, your Highness.”

He let go, and her arm went cold; her reply followed suit. “You would have me retreat, then.” Ostensibly she referred to the storm, but perhaps he also knew her deeper, not totally subtle, meaning.

He gestured an arm out to her, inviting her to precede him indoors, an invitation she accepted bitterly. His lack of a response must be his answer. All at once she was angry at him for disturbing her peace and for his continued presence as they navigated the passageways back to her rooms.

They were about to take the final turning into the hall that led to her chambers when he murmured, “It is no shame to retreat, my lady.” This was a title rarely applied to her, and against her will, she felt her body respond, warming to the appellation as though it was a caress. “Perhaps your education has failed you in military engagement, but a tactical retreat may end in your victory, provided you keep your wits and allies about you.”

Rey halted and peered up at him. He had never spoken so many words directly to her. “Lose the battle to win the war, you mean?”

He nodded.

Was he encouraging her to accept Snoke as a husband, then? In what way would losing that battle win her the war of sovereignty? She could see no victory should she take that path. If that was what Kylo suggested, it was a cruel fate he wished on her.

Yet his tone, still dampened and indecipherable behind his helmet, was gentle. As though he were sharing a secret.

She ventured a step closer to him, and he did not move. Another step. He remained still. The toes of her damp slippers brushed against the tip of his sabaton. She had never stood so close to any man, much less him; all she need do was reach out her hand an inch or two and she could touch his hidden fingers. Still he gave no sign of retreat, no matter his words extolling its virtues.

Rey was never sure after this if she had controlled the motion of her hand or if it raised itself to Kylo’s helmet of its own volition. Nothing hindered her impulse now.

His hand flew up to stop her before she could touch his armor, clutching her wrist tightly while a panicked whisper escaped him. “Don’t!”

She said nothing, only looked at him steadily, and presently his grip eased and her hand was freed. She lifted her other hand, raising them both so that they hovered on either side of his helmet. Her breaths became shallow as nervous (or was it delicious?) anticipation took root in her chest. She attempted to keep her movements and thoughts under control; was his breathing as unsteady as hers?

Her fingers twitched as she made her decision. The few seconds that ticked by seemed to pass slowly and far too quickly. She quietly gulped. “Trust me,” she whispered.

Carefully she closed the distance, cool metal meeting the tips of her fingers, and with a desperate prayer of bravery, she pushed his visor up. Rey bit back her gasp. Before this moment, all she had wanted was to see Kylo’s face, sure she could not be content with less. Lifting only his visor was a compromise that would surely leave her unsatisfied. How mistaken she had been.

His dark eyes, illuminated by a benevolent glow of the torchlight, were more than enough for her.

* * *

She closed her eyes to sleep more peacefully than she had for the past week, a renewed hope swelling within her breast. All would be well; she was certain of it.

* * *

It seemed but an instant before a hand was furiously shaking her shoulder, a voice whispering in her ear, and she jerked up in the darkness, fright overwhelming her. Intense panic banished the memory of assurance in the Captain’s eloquent gaze, and her frenzied mind berated her for being a fool. He had said nothing after she lifted his visor, and her assumptions that he would keep her safe were mere conjecture, if not lunacy in the reality of an intruder in her bedchamber. Danger was every moment waiting to pounce.

She lunged about wildly to find any weapon to defend herself, but strong hands held her shoulders in place and repeated her name. “Rey! Stop! It’s all right. It’s me!” Her mind finally caught up with the rest of her body as she recognized the voice that awakened her.

“Finn?” she uttered in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

The storm clouds had cleared while she slept, so the moonlight was bright enough to reveal a grim smile on Finn’s face.

“I’m busting you out of this place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments! It's always good to have that confirmation of support. I'll try to be good about responding to them; that's definitely a habit I'm still working on.


	3. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey makes her escape. With help.

Rey barely had a chance to comprehend Finn’s words before he pushed a leather satchel on her, round and full-to-bursting. It was only instinct, not coherence, that got her out of her bed, following Finn to the wardrobe as he yanked the doors of it wide open. The sight of Finn pawing through her fine clothing was almost funny, but the stern set of his jaw extinguished any humor she could derive from the situation.

Finn was helping her escape. Finn was insane.

She whispered his name urgently, grabbing his arm to stop his search. “Finn, stop! We can’t do this. We’ll only be caught, and you’ll be executed!”

He turned to her, his face savage and resolute. “We  _ can _ do this. You’ve got to trust me, Princess. We’ll get you out of here, or die trying.”

Finn turned back to the wardrobe, continuing his search. Rey couldn’t stop the question. “Why?”

He didn’t bother to look her way again, only snorting quietly. “Why?” he repeated, clearly whispering to himself. “The Lord Protector is dead-set on making her his wife, and she asks me why we’re hightailing it out of here.” He found what he was looking for, and grabbing her clothing in a tight bundle, he spun to face her again. “You do know that’s what he’s planning, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she replied tightly. “But I can’t run away; that will only give him more power. I promised myself -”

“He’s already too powerful, Rey,” Finn interrupted with a roll of his eyes. “His hold in Theed is too strong for you to challenge him. Your best bet is to get away while you can.”

“And do what, Finn? Hide for the rest of my life? I won’t do that. I won’t let him scare me away.”

“This isn’t about him scaring you away. This is about you keeping yourself safe until you are able to overthrow him.”

Rey began to shake her head, and Finn gripped her hand. “We’re going to Alderaan.”

“Alderaan?” she repeated breathily.

“Yes. We’ve talked about it, Rey, I know you’ve always wanted to see it. Well, now you will.”

She shook her head again. “No. It’s too risky. It’ll take too long to get there, and we’ll be caught in the meantime.”

Finn copied her by shaking his own head vehemently. “We can make it, Rey. You’re not some idiot princess who can’t lift anything heavier than a needle. You grew up running and hiding from your enemies until you figured out a way to fight and beat them -- you’ve told me yourself. And I grew up in the eastern hills; I know the terrain. We can do it, and once we’ve crossed the border, you’ll be free to go to Aldera and make your case in Queen Leia’s court.”

Even at this moment of trepidation and absurdity, a delighted shiver ran through Rey at the mention of Leia Organa. She knew little about the Alderaanian queen, but every time she heard her name, a feeling of reverence overcame her.

Rey looked down at the bundle Finn handed her, recognizing the tunic and trousers she trained in nearly every morning. Could she really do what Finn suggested? She wanted to meet the famed general-queen, but . . . “What good will it do?” she murmured.

“It’ll get you out from under Snoke’s nose,” Finn replied as though she had directed the question to him, now hurling her boots out of the wardrobe one at a time. “You’ll be safe and able to find allies to support you when you come back to claim your throne.”

At the mention of the word “allies”, Rey’s head jerked up, her mind yanked back to her conversation with Kylo. What was it he said? To keep her “wits and allies about”? Her lip curled mischievously.

It was clear to her now that she wasn’t under the spell of the Captain’s gaze; conflicted he may be, but the assurance she had read in his eyes was not enough to overpower years of service to the Lord Protector. His allegiance could not possibly be to her; if it had been, it would be him and not Finn pleading with her to escape tonight. His intention was to persuade her to submit herself to marriage with Snoke. Well, she wouldn’t do that. He had spoken of a tactical retreat, and wouldn’t he be surprised when she did just that by escaping to Alderaan? Wouldn’t it be a good slap in his concealed face when she took his advice, but not at all in the manner he intended?

* * *

Exiting the palace and its gates was far easier than either of them expected. Finn had no ready explanation for why the guards at her door had disappeared -- dereliction of duty was no laughing matter, and a guard would risk anything but be caught away from their assignment. Finn thought it highly unlikely that they would abandon their post merely to join in the distant revelry in the common halls, but he supposed with a shrug, anything was possible when fine liquor, good food, and . . .  _ pleasurable _ company was promised. He admitted this addition with a shy ducking of his head, and Rey had no trouble understanding what he meant.

“Why are the guards being given a feast?” she whispered as they tiptoed down a service stairway, echoes of raucous laughter reaching their ears from the far-off halls.

“Some celebration to congratulate themselves on setting down the Gungan revolts. Not that any of the guards here had anything to do with it, but they’ll be more than happy to hear the tales from the Knights of Ren. Then they can boast about it as though they were in the battles themselves.”

Rey felt that familiar pit in her stomach at the reference to the beleaguered people she was born to lead, all the more intense at the guilt that persisted as she prepared to leave them behind in her personal quest. She attempted to comfort herself with the hope that her journey and goals would benefit them in the end. It was this that occupied her mind, and not the conspicuous absence of more guards, as they slipped out of the palace gates and crept along to the walls bordering the city.

They were able to mix in the crowd of travelers that gathered at the eastern wall, struggling to sleep in the remaining hours of darkness, then jostling and elbowing with the rest who were temporarily stuck in the bottleneck that formed when the gate opened at dawn. For much longer than Finn was comfortable, they allowed their path to follow the main road that most of the travelers were taking. Years of skullduggery had taught Rey to blend into a crowd to evade capture, and she reasoned to him that peeling off the road too quickly into the surrounding woods would attract attention. Finn was especially appalled that she refused to put her hood up. But she knew that with so few people covering their faces, there would be questions if she tried to hide herself. So they trusted to their plain clothes, covered by nondescript gray cloaks, and steady gait to protect them from suspicion.

Rey thought it might be possible to attach themselves to a caravan of merchants for a while, concealing themselves within the wagons when the first wave of soldiers inevitably would pass. She could only guess how long it would be until her disappearance was discovered. The previous week of relative solitude lent itself to the possibility that her presence might not be missed too quickly. She hadn’t joined Finn for training for several days, so the guards at her doors had grown used to not seeing her in the early hours, but Phasma had kept up the usual habit of not attending her until mid-morning to break her fast. So it was possible (even probable?) that they had a few hours to travel before the alarm was raised.

Naturally, on foot they could not outrun mounted soldiers, but they could keep to hidden places and pick along unexpected paths that horses could not follow, and with a will and a prayer they just might get through. And whatever obstruction might come up, Rey could not entirely lose hope while she had her friend by her side.

* * *

They had opted, after all, not to remain with the caravan, splitting away on a little-used road, marked by a shallow rut of wagon wheels and weak grass that hadn’t managed to be trampled underfoot. Such a track likely led to a sparsely populated hamlet, hopefully a good distance from where the roads diverged. Rey had observed other pairs of travelers departing on similar roads before she deemed it safe to do so inconspicuously, and once the caravan was out of sight, they left the little road and began forging their own path northeast. Finn hoped to find, by whatever way was safest through the expanse of the Solleu Woods, a canyon in the eastern hills that led straight through them into Alderaan’s northern duchy of Bacca. A lone horse could pick its way along the narrow canyon path only marginally faster than someone on foot, but it would be a fool’s errand to risk a whole company of horses along such a route.

The initial terror of the journey lessened after the first day, especially since there had been no sign of pursuit while they had kept to the main road. Rey and Finn had been surprised, but told each other not to be lulled into a false sense of security. Indeed, apprehension rose every time their meandering route took them out of the shelter of the woods, and they would strain their ears for a hint of the Naboo cavalry, or worse, the Knights of Ren. Rey knew that her doom would be more than sure if they were caught by that elite squadron, but a traitorous desire to see their leader again occasionally protruded its way into her consciousness.

The caution they practiced, however, was most of the time dulled by the monotony and difficulty of constructing their crooked course. They didn’t dare build a fire, which precluded hunting, so once their supplies dwindled, the food they could eat had to be foraged for, which took valuable time away from actual travel. Not to mention the lack of a fire meant chilled nights for insufficient sleep and standing watch. Over three weeks had gone by, and the farther north they walked, the more uncomfortable their nights became. The summer thunderstorms were colder in the foothills than in the lowlands surrounding Theed, and they were swiftly approaching autumn temperatures. There was little in the way of rain, fortunately, but the wind blew fiercely and bit into Rey’s skin.

She and Finn tried to remain optimistic for each other’s sake, but there were nights that Rey went to sleep cursing her circumstances, body cold and stomach groaning with hunger. She had been used to the sensation in her previous life, but the past two years had spoiled her, making her more irritated with the lack of food now that she knew the difference. And the lamentable slowness of their journey was infuriating; would they ever find their way to safety? Warmth? A bed? It all was so terribly unfair.

“Rey?” Finn whispered to her one night while she huddled into her deficient blanket.

“What?” she snapped more angrily than he deserved. He said nothing, and she sighed. “What?” she repeated, softening her tone.

“Do you ever wonder . . . forget it.”

Her interest was piqued, though, at his hesitance, and she encouraged him to go on.

“You don’t have to answer, but it’s something I’ve wondered for a long time. Maybe you have, too. I don’t want to offend you.”

“What is it?”

“Do you ever wonder . . . if you had known him, would you have liked Palpatine?”

Rey didn’t answer right away, letting the usual disgust at the mention of the emperor wash over her. “To be honest, I try not to think of him. He was a terrible man, Finn. No amount of delusional preaching by Hux was ever going to convince me otherwise. I’m glad he’s gone.”

“But, he was your grandfather,” Finn pointed out. “If you had been raised knowing him, wouldn’t he have maybe been kind to you and made you think you could like him?”

She lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Maybe. But I don’t spend my time wondering about him.”

“You don’t deal much in what-might-have-beens.”

“No, I do,” Rey replied earnestly. What was her imagination for if not to indulge in all the what-might-have-beens of her life? She couldn’t confess all of them to Finn, but she would tell him of one.“But not about him. Mostly I wonder about my mother and father. What happened to them? Did my father rebel against the emperor? Were they the ones who brought me to Jakku? Why did I never know them?”

In the darkness, she couldn’t see Finn’s face, for which she was grateful. She was sure she couldn’t stand to see his look of pity.

“You would think I’d have found out about them when I came here, but I never asked. Somehow I knew that whatever answer I was given would be a lie. So they only exist in my imagination.

“That is, I know they were real; I wouldn’t exist if they hadn’t been. But they’re practically myths to me now. Kind of like the legends we hear about Luke Skywalker. We know he was a real person. My grandfather’s demise is proof of that,” she reflected, her mouth quirking. “But just as quickly as he established himself as a hero, he disappeared. He’s practically a tall tale. Just like my parents,” she trailed off woefully.

“I know what you mean,” Finn replied quietly. “That’s how I feel about my parents, too.”

Rey blinked. Finn had spoken occasionally of a home before coming to the palace as a young page. She had assumed he knew his family; one should know such a thing about one’s friend after two years. “So you don’t have any -”

“A sister,” he cut in. “Jannah. But I haven’t seen her in years. Maybe some day we’ll . . . but it’s better not to hope for that right now. I’ve got to use every bit of faith I’ve got left to focus on what we’re doing.”

“Finn,” Rey started, her voice strangled in her throat by shame. She should have made more of an effort when she had the chance. “I’m sorry I never -”

“Leave it, Rey. I never asked about your family before now, either. Let’s just make it to Alderaan.”

Finn’s faith in their journey was rewarded the very next day. Around noon, the gentle incline of the woods they were traversing suddenly shifted into a steep slope, and the trees around them began to thin. Rey was startled into panic by the change, worried at the lack of cover, but Finn gave her a grin that was entirely at odds with her feelings.

“We’re getting closer, Rey!” he affirmed. “We’ll have to be careful, but we’re almost to the mouth of the canyon.”

“Will we have cover once we reach it?” she asked worriedly.

“Not much in the canyon itself, but where the stream leaves the hills, it spreads into a pool that a small grove has sprouted around. But once we’re in the canyon, we’re almost there! Come on!”

With renewed vigor, Finn backtracked to where the ground was somewhat level and the trees grew a little more thickly, but still not as closely as they had before. There would be no climbing until they reached the opening Finn was certain was within a day’s walk.

His exuberance was catching, and though they were hard-pressed to find any substantial sustenance as they followed the path at the foot of the growing hills, Rey felt excitement rise within her as Finn recognized various features around them. The afternoon sun pressed down more strongly with each passing hour as they drew closer to the final hurdle of their journey. Twilight was still an hour away, and they had just decided in their eagerness to continue even after darkness fell, when they reached a clearing of tall grass, and Finn practically leaped at the sight, pointing beyond it to another cluster of trees.

“That’s it, Rey! It’s the grove!” he exclaimed, caution forgotten in his exultation. Rey didn’t blame him one bit; she was elated, and put her arm about his shoulders, pulling him into an awkward side-hug of victory. She had forgotten how wide his smile could be.

Crossing the clearing took only a few minutes, and as they reached the edge of the grove, Rey turned to thank Finn for his excellent guidance in getting them so far. But an unmistakable twang vibrated in the air, and before she could register where it had come from, Finn pushed her to the ground, and she landed with a heavy thud, her wrist twisting beneath her painfully.

Another twang sounded, and the whooshing rush of another arrow sailed above her, thwapping into a tree far too close to her. She spun her body to look up, wondering why Finn had not dropped down beside her when he pushed her. Ready to pull him down, she reached up a shaky hand to where he stood stock-still, confusion and terror contorting his face.

She was sure her expression mirrored his; their worst fears were realized. They were discovered.

But there was still a chance. They had only to get into the canyon. If whoever loosed the arrows had no companions to block their path. But why was Finn not moving?

“Finn!” she hissed urgently, and then she saw the blood drip onto the ground at his feet. “Finn!” she screamed as his knees buckled below him and he tumbled in a heap. This was not how she imagined him taking cover, she dimly thought before finally seeing the arrow stuck in his shoulder blade.

Horror devoured her, and for a blindingly terrifying instant, she could see and hear nothing but the ringing in her ears and the greenish tinge taking over Finn’s dark face as he spasmed in pain, crushing twigs and leaves under his ordinarily strong body. Seeing him so quickly weakened frightened Rey beyond words, and she wanted to give way to her grief at the cruel turn of events when they seemed so close to freedom.

The sound of distant but fast footfalls, and shouts from comrades to each other soon replaced the ringing in her ears. She didn’t know who had tracked them down, but whoever they were knew the area well enough to guess where she was headed, and she heard them call to each other to cut off her escape. There had to still be a chance for her to reach the canyon. Odds were they could catch her, especially with her lugging Finn, who was rapidly succumbing to unconsciousness, but in her jumbled mind, the canyon presented itself as her lone salvation.

Getting to her feet, tripping over her cloak as it twisted around her feet, she hunched over and placed her hands through Finn’s armpits, and gave a mighty heave as she stepped backward. A cry of pain escaped her as her injured wrist protested at the strain, but she did manage to move him with her efforts. She had to keep going. Or die trying. Another heave, and another grimace against the pain, but she would continue even if she broke her wrist entirely.

There was a cacophony of noise all around her, tell-tale cracklings through the underbrush and the sound of branches being batted aside as her pursuers formed a hasty perimeter around her, though she still couldn’t see them (not that she looked up from dragging Finn along the ground). She knew at least one was still behind, slowly gaining on her, and another must have sped ahead to the canyon entrance. If there were more, she had no idea. Another heave, another desperate cry, and she finally realized that the moisture on her cheeks was not from another plaguing thunderstorm, but from her own desolate tears.

“Please,” Rey entreated to the empty air around her. “If there is a God in heaven, please. Don’t let me fail.”

Her muttered plea was answered by the appearance of the archer, a woman who wore the uniform of the Naboo infantry. Not a Knight of Ren, but of course they were not necessary when a regular soldier could do the job just as well. Rey stopped in her tracks, and gave the woman the roughest glare she could manage. But it only served to make the archer smirk as she notched another arrow to her bow.

“You’ve given us all a merry chase, haven’t you, your Highness?” she asked, taking aim with her weapon at Rey’s breast. “But it’s all for nothing, isn’t it? The Lord Protector has a long reach, and you cannot escape it.”

Rey was struggling to gulp in her breaths, and her voice was threadbare as she pleaded, “You would take your queen as your prisoner? Think of what you are doing.”

The woman looked tempted to laugh. “You aren’t queen yet, and I take my orders from who’s in charge. Isn’t my business to change the order of things. So you just come along quietly, and it’ll be easier for us all.”

Rey shook her head. “You’ll regret disobeying me,” she threatened fiercely, if ineffectively.

The woman laughed outright at the warning, and pulling her arrow back, the string on her bow becoming taut, she replied, “Oh, I doubt that, Princess.”

Rey gritted her teeth together; she doubted this soldier would do irreparable harm to her, but she feared for Finn. And what was more, her pride demanded that she stand her ground. They were at an impasse, but who would make the first move?

Galloping hooves and a terrific crash through the trees broke the stalemate, and before Rey could lunge out of the way, an enormous black horse with a masked rider burst into view. The archer turned toward the noise, but that was the last thing she did before crumpling to the ground, much as Finn had, an arrow lodged in her chest that had flown from the rider’s crossbow.

Rey had thrown herself down at his appearance, and she was mute and stunned in the face of rescue. Her savior had barely slowed his horse before jumping to the ground, throwing his crossbow aside and drawing a bright sword from under his forest-green cloak. He stalked toward the archer, nudging her body with a black leather boot once he was within reach. Satisfied that she was dead, now he turned to Rey.

“There are two more of them, both blocking your way to the pass,” he rasped from behind the dark mask that obscured his face, the hood of his cloak casting it in greater shadow. “I can get you by them.”

“But . . .” she responded breathily as she clambered to her feet, her ability to think completely gone. “Finn.”

“Do you want to live, or do you want to save your friend?” he asked, sheathing his sword, revealing more black leather beneath his cloak.

She gritted her teeth again. “Both, preferably.” The reasonable part of her mind knew that argument at such a time was ridiculous, but reason had flown the instant the arrow had pierced Finn’s back.

The masked man growled and whirled away from her. She couldn’t blame him for his frustration. He offered her an escape, and she was apparently refusing it. He took angry strides back to where his crossbow had been discarded, and as he picked it up, he muttered, “Don’t be a fool, your Highness.”

The way he walked . . .

“I am grateful for your assistance, but it is still my choice to remain with my friend,” she proclaimed stubbornly.

He kicked the dirt at his feet, took a few paces toward his horse, and stopped. “So be it.” In a flash, he threw back his hood and tore off the mask.

It was a good thing Rey was not a woman given to fainting, or surely she would swoon at yet another shock to her sensibilities. His hair, nearly black, swept over and framed pale skin, a long nose pointed to full lips, and, though there was a fuzzy component of her that was surprised by the boyishness of his face, these features were yet nothing to what froze her in place.

It was his eyes. Eyes she had not forgotten, eyes she never would forget. The Captain stood before her.


	4. Crossing the Canyon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's unexpected helper gives her some useful gifts.

Was it hours or mere seconds that he looked at her, his face finally fully revealed? However long it was, Rey was hardly able to appreciate the sight before Kylo crossed back to his horse and began stripping off saddlebags. Rey, unable to do anything for Finn, approached the Captain by a few steps, watching the shafts of lowering sunlight streak across his profile. His large hands worked swiftly at various straps, letting satchels and other weaponry drop in a disorganized heap.

Her mind, which had frozen along with the rest of her at the sight of him, kicked into gear. What was he doing here? Why would he help her? And how far was he willing to go to assist her? Had he cut all ties with Snoke? The clothing he had exchanged his usual armor for -- was it some disguise that was part of an elaborate ruse (there was that imagination of hers again)? What did he know of her plans? Had he always known where she and Finn were? The questions tumbled through her mind at such a rapid rate, she hardly knew which one to give voice to first.

Having relieved his horse of most of its burdens, and tightening the strap that held a quiver of arrows more securely, he turned, his expressive eyes flinty and intense. “Come on,” he murmured, taking hold of the reins and leading his horse to where Finn lay. “You haven’t much time. One of them is bound to come searching once they realize . . .” he jerked his head to the corpse behind him.

Rey followed him mutely, watching as he bent to Finn’s prostrate form. She choked back threatening tears at the thought that Finn might be dead himself. “He isn’t . . . he isn’t -”

“He lives,” Kylo interrupted, his lips twisting in concentration. “I didn’t expect . . .” he trailed off again, exhaling audibly through his nose. He straightened again, whipping his head to face her, hastily pushing the long locks of his hair out of his eyes with an impatient hand. “You’ll have to help me get him on Falcon.”

She was momentarily confused. “Falcon?” she asked stupidly.

He pointed to his horse with a slight roll of his eyes. “Falcon,” he stated simply, his voice resonant.

That question cleared up, Rey was still confused. “I thought you wanted me to leave -”

The mildness of his voice quickly gave way to impatient anger. “And you said you wouldn’t do it, so help me get him on Falcon, or leave him to die!”

She jumped, spurred into action. Of course he was right. This wasn’t the time to dither. With a grunt, Kylo hoisted Finn’s torso up, jerking his head to indicate that she take Finn’s legs. She winced at the reminder of her swelling wrist, but said nothing as they lifted and laid Finn sideways across the back of the obedient stallion.

Swiftly Kylo returned to the pile he had loosed from his horse, retrieving his crossbow. He held it out to Rey as he passed her. “Have you used one of these before?”

She shook her head, but he pressed it into her arms, nonetheless.

“Point and shoot,” he instructed curtly, taking Falcon’s reins again and leading him deeper into the trees.

Rey followed and quickly realized Kylo was walking in the direction of the canyon opening. Did he mean to stay with them?

“Just a little longer, and then you’ll get on Falcon yourself. There were only three soldiers here.”

_ Two now _ , Rey thought.

“But a whole squadron is stationed in Solleuton, a couple miles off, and there are probably others positioned nearby.”

Rey fought off the terror as best she could at his report. “Did they follow us? Were we ever -”

“No one followed you,” he cut in, his deep voice low and quick, as he picked his way carefully along the ground, his dark eyes darting to and fro. “You would have been taken long before now if they had. But it didn’t take a mastermind to figure out who else was missing after your escape, and once his commanders remembered where Finn was from, it only made sense that they send a larger unit to the hills.”

_ Stupid, stupid girl _ , Rey thought. It stood to reason that Finn’s history would be taken into account in the country’s search for her. But why did Kylo speak Finn’s name with familiarity?

“It was the safest and fastest way to get you into Alderaan, though, barring the main roads. A calculated risk, but he was willing to take it.”

Rey halted in her tracks, her eyes wide. “What did you say?”

Kylo stopped, and swiveled toward her. “This isn’t the time to exchange stories, your Highness.”

“But . . .” she spluttered, her mind connecting bits and pieces of conjecture and fact to make one shocking conclusion. “It was you?”

He said nothing, only turned and continued to lead her, the sound of trickling water from the canyon stream coming closer. But she would not let him ignore her. She seized his shoulder, spinning him to face her.

“Did you make this -- all this,” she gestured haphazardly around her, “possible? Did you plan -?”

He leaned in, his tall form threatening. “I said this is not the time. You need to get out of here as quickly as you can, and I can help you do it. What more do you need to know?”

_ Everything! _ she wanted to shout, but she had the presence of mind not to give in to the urge. He didn’t confirm her suspicions, but he wasn’t denying her allegations, either. Somehow, for some reason, he had been the one to facilitate her escape. All the circumstances that made slipping away so confoundedly easy -- the feast for the guards and his own knights, the lack of any hindrance to their escape from the palace, the absence of a hasty pursuit on the road, and who knew what else? -- was all due to him!

Again he hardly gave her a chance to respond, and, looking beyond the trees as best he could, he pulled her by the shoulder to come closer to his horse. “Get on. It’s time.”

She wanted to protest, but she also knew that she had to act quickly. Who knew when the other soldiers would begin their own investigation? Finn’s body was blocking the pommel and any other part of the saddle she might grip, so she hesitated briefly, unsure of how to climb on this titan of a steed. Large hands circled around her waist before she could come to a solution, and with far more ease than he had lifted Finn, Kylo vaulted her onto Falcon’s waiting back.

“I’ll go ahead,” he spoke again before she could thank him, however awkwardly she might have phrased it. “You’ll probably hear when they find me. Wait five minutes, and then you ride like hell.”

“You’re not coming, too?” she questioned. What was there for him to stay for if he had betrayed Snoke?

A muscle twitched below his eye. “No.” He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t ask him to. He glanced in the direction of the canyon again. “You ride as fast as you can for as long as you can.”

“But,” she protested, “the path. And it’s nearly nighttime. Finn said a horse can’t gallop in there.”

“As fast as you can for as long as you can,” he repeated urgently. “Trust Falcon. He knows that canyon. And even when you have to go slower, don’t stop. You ride all through the night, and you’ll reach Bacca by morning. You’ll see the duke’s house easily; it’s set almost right up against the hills.”

How did he know all this?

“What if -”

“Don’t think about anything else, Highness,” he urged in a lower voice. “You get yourself to safety. And whatever your friend does, if he wakes or anything, don’t move him and  _ don’t _ pull that arrow out yourself. You’ll find the help you need in Bacca. And Aldera.”

Rey felt her breast swell in indecipherable emotion. This was the final barricade to freedom, and he was tearing it down. And he had done more, besides. What did she owe to him? And would she ever be given the chance to repay? Her eyes roamed over his face, wanting to hold it in her memory. The idea that she might not ever see it again after having been finally granted the privilege was surprisingly painful.

Kylo handed her the reins and stepped around to Falcon’s head, stroking his nose with a gentle touch, receiving a nudge of the head in return. He uttered a few brief, murmured words that Rey couldn’t catch, and then he stepped back and turned to go on alone.

“Why?” She couldn’t contain the most important question, not any longer.

He faced her one last time, but the sun was now too low for her to see his expression. “You are my queen.”

He was gone the next moment. Falcon nickered softly and adjusted his legs restlessly, almost as if he knew that any moment he would be required to fly. She hoped he was up to the challenge. Her horsemanship had improved in the last two years, but she had never ridden a horse at full-speed through unknown terrain with an unconscious soldier practically in her lap. This would take every bit of control she could muster. Kylo told her to trust this horse; he had better have been right.

The wait was excruciating, counting the seconds and telling herself not to rush. A clash of metal on metal resounded beyond the trees, and she knew that Kylo had engaged the enemy. Her instinct pushed her to assist him, but he had been more than clear with what she needed to do. Another minute longer. Her grip on the reins tightened. She felt Falcon tense beneath her legs, ready to obey her command.

_ Three. Two. One. _ She dug her knees in, and with the slightest rear on his hind legs, Falcon shot off. She trusted to his instincts to dodge the remaining trees, and concentrated on keeping her grip and holding on to Finn to keep him from sliding off. A low-hanging branch slashed her cheek, stinging and likely drawing blood, but she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on it.

Another push and they were beyond the grove, the canyon opening finally in sight and blessedly close. She steered as best she could, but Falcon didn’t seem to require it. He knew where she needed to go, and his hooves thundered as he propelled them forward.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kylo’s twirling cloak came into view, tipping her off to where he fought. They passed too swiftly for her to get a satisfactory view, but she looked just in time to see a man on the ground at his feet, blood-spattered and still, and Kylo was pulling his sword from the other with a lethal stroke, his hair flying around him with the motion, his face furious with exertion.

That was all she could catch before riding into the twisting canyon, but at least it was enough to know that he had survived his diversionary skirmish. She cast aside the hope that he watched her ride away; such hope wouldn’t help her now. But as the rocky walls around her converged and darkness fell, she sent up another prayer, for herself, for Finn, and for the man she had left behind.

* * *

The lingering adrenaline kept Rey wide awake for a long while, but as Falcon slowed to a trot, then a walk, and in especially tricky spots, a crawl, exhaustion set in. The only thing keeping her drooping eyes from closing was the fear that any moment Finn would slip off and fall into the deep crevice at her left. She could hardly see the path ahead. If there was any moon out, it was blocked by all the twists and turns of the canyon walls.

The air grew cold, and she drew her cloak around her more securely before returning a hand to steady Finn’s body. Miraculously, even as the hours crept by, he continued to breathe, and she was glad for this small mercy, but she would keep her hand on his back to be absolutely certain, anyway. Falcon was also a steadying presence through the quiet night. He seemed to know just where to lay his hooves in the darkness -- Kylo had not lied when he claimed his horse knew this area.

Rey shivered again, but this time at the memory of Kylo’s sword plunging into his adversary. Three soldiers dead in the span of twenty minutes. Her life in Jakku had made her immune to fighting, but it was rare for her to see anybody dole out death. Yet to Kylo, a knight and soldier, it was a fact of life, a necessity of obedience in battle. For years he must have killed for Snoke, but today he had done it for her. What was the difference? And was it all necessary? Was her quest for a crown worth the blood that would likely be spilled?

Oh, but she was too tired. She could not debate the merits and drawbacks of war and conquest with herself right now. She would think instead of the Captain who had defended her. The one who, after all, did not want her to submit to Snoke’s will.

She gave an assuring pat to Finn’s back. She hadn’t even wondered that night he rousted her out of bed why he knew Snoke planned to wed her himself. Maybe she had assumed that it was an open secret in the palace, but upon reflection she thought perhaps it was really only known to her and Kylo. And he must have conspired with Finn once Snoke had revealed his intentions.

The idea of Kylo and Finn working together was incomprehensible, and yet from what Kylo had let slip, it appeared that they had hatched the plan together. And Finn! What an actor. She hadn’t doubted at all his ignorance of why their escape was made so easy. She would be sure to have words with him on that score if he awoke.  _ When _ he awoke, she corrected herself.

In what a different light did this paint that brief interaction with Kylo in the corridor before she had lifted his visor. He had known that she would take flight that very night. And she had thought that by going with Finn she was flouting Kylo’s advice, thwarting whatever hope he had to bind her to the Lord Protector. But she had played right into his plans! Retreating from Snoke, gathering allies in Alderaan so that she might return a queen was precisely what he had intended.

How long had he been working for her benefit? And why had he done it?

She was so absorbed between these circling thoughts and her desire for rest that she didn’t even notice when the canyon widened around her and she could no longer touch the rocky wall on her right side. Falcon continued to walk unguided, though his fatigue must have been no less than hers; his steps remained sure and steady when the ground sloped downward. The shift in direction was what caught Rey’s attention, and she was startled to see a valley before her, a large manor just below a series of switchbacks, and the first hint of gray in the inky night sky.

She had crossed the canyon. She was in Alderaan. Relief swept over her, and she slumped where she sat, wishing she could simply collapse from the evaporation of weeks’ worth of weight that previously crushed her. Exhaustion replaced her tension, and she began to feel giddy and suddenly unable to focus now that the immediate danger was gone. The sky lightened as they descended the switchbacks ever so slowly. She supposed that if anybody was watching their descent, the shadows of pre-dawn likely blurred their shapes into one deformed beast with two bulbous lumps protruding from its back. A giggle that sounded more like a drunk hiccup escaped her at the thought of scaring off the Alderaanians by resembling some plodding monster.

The sun broke over the other side of the large valley by the time they reached the bottom. The road widened and split, one branch leading southward, the other heading for the manor gate that was barely a mile ahead. Again Rey didn’t need to point Falcon in the right direction -- he immediately went toward the house. Relaxing more into the saddle, Rey knew that the horse was probably heading toward the nearest promise of shelter and food, but the bubble of giddiness that was growing in her tired mind suggested that Falcon went there because he was personally acquainted with the occupants. She snorted. That was impossible.

Their arrival did not go unnoticed. Two figures emerged from the gatehouse, which was less than a quarter of a mile from the manor. One of the figures ran back to the manor (probably to warn the residents that a two-humped monster was approaching, she thought with another drunk-sounding giggle), while the other, shorter figure simply waited for Rey to close the distance.

As Rey came closer, the figure became a woman with a sweet face, which scrunched in confusion and concern, then blanched as Finn’s body came into focus. Whatever question had been on her lips was lost, and she immediately unlatched the gate, waving Rey through hastily. Rey didn’t even have the voice to thank her, only able to manage a tired nod as Falcon passed.

Other occupants were streaming into the receiving yard, and Rey wasn’t sure if she should be glad or wary of the welcoming committee. A loud bark drowned out the rest of the chatter as they drew near, and her eyes immediately found a large black dog with the white and brown face as it wound its way between the peoples’ legs.

She dismounted, and her legs wobbled beneath her. She registered the crossbow in her hands; when had she grabbed hold of it? Instantly she was surrounded, bodies and hands reaching out to steady her and lift Finn off of Falcon. “Please,” she gasped out, “he needs -”

“We’ll help him, my dear,” a wise, matronly voice reassured her, though she couldn’t tell from whom it originated. The effort to move her head was becoming difficult, and her eyes were fixed on the ground. The fluffy dog cantered before her feet, nearly tripping the servants who assisted (practically carried, more like) her, and the same voice scolded, “Chewie! Mind your manners!”

“It’s all right,” Rey said in a weak voice. His friendliness was a boon, and she wished to scratch him behind his floppy ears, but she knew that if she knelt, she wouldn’t get back up. Her head was every moment feeling heavier.

“My lord,” another voice exclaimed beside her, and the sight of two obscenely large feet appeared on the ground beside the dog. Her eyes bugged out; she needed to see the personage who belonged to  _ those _ .

Her head lolled around wildly, taking in the sight of the largest, hairiest man she had ever seen. In fact, she snorted again to herself, there was a strong resemblance between him and his dog. Were they family? Oblivion beckoned, enticing and increasing.

His eyes, nearly black, narrowed at her for a minute in study. But when he glanced over to where his attendants were leading Falcon away, his entire visage changed, eyes wide and jaw agape. His face jumped back to her, and he looked her up and down quickly. Before she could stop him (as if she had the energy to do so), he reached forward and seized the crossbow from her hands.

Holding it up with a slight shake, he asked, “Where did you get this?”

But Rey didn’t answer; her head rolled back in a dead faint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's the author! In case anybody's curious, Chewie the dog is a Bernese in my head. They are gorgeous.
> 
> Prepare yourself for less action-packed scenes in the next few chapters - we're getting into some exposition/backstory territory now, and also it's going to be a while before Kylo/Ben appears again in person (hence this being a slow burn). He still looms large in the story in these chapters, though, always with at least a mention or two, and very often more than that. So I hope you will be patient and still enjoy it even when he's not actually "on screen". Thanks!


	5. In the Duke's Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey learns some surprising things, as well as delivering a surprise of her own.

It was dark the first time Rey slipped out of sleep, hushed voices whispering furtively.

“ . . . curious, but do we know . . .”

“ . . . the reports did say . . .”

Rey groggily moaned, still in the strong grip of fatigue that wished to pull her back into slumber, made stronger by the plush bedclothes surrounding her.

“ . . . crossbow, and the horse. It must mean . . .”

“Falcon,” she mumbled, and the discussion above her ceased. “‘S Kylo’s horse.”

There was a pause, and the woman’s voice who had reassured her before spoke up. “And how did you come by it?”

But the few words Rey had uttered were all she could manage before slipping back into sleep.

* * *

When Rey awakened again, sunlight streamed into the room, and she could see flecks of dust wafting in the bright shafts of light that slanted onto the wooden floor. She winced as her eyes adjusted, and she instinctively moved her arms to push herself into a sitting position on the bed. This was made difficult by the wrapping that held one forearm securely to her chest.

“Here, let me help you,” a cheery voice said from her left, and Rey looked over to see a petite woman rising from a nearby chair. Rey was pleased to discover her mind was no longer so sluggish, as she instantly recognized her as the woman who had let her through the gate. With a firm touch and shy smile, the woman placed a hand on Rey’s back to steady her while helping her rise.

“How long was I asleep?” Rey asked, swallowing thickly to relieve her parched throat. The woman darted to a side table and quickly poured a cup of water for her.

“Over a day,” the woman replied, handing her the cup. “But just barely. It’s mid-morning now, and you arrived at dawn yesterday. Slowly,” she hastened to say as Rey lifted the cup to her lips. “We would have tried to get some nourishment into you, but the only time you woke up, there was no possible way we could rouse you enough to feed you.”

Taking small sips, Rey grinned sheepishly, and then winced at the tightness of her cheek where her cut was freshly scabbed. “I haven’t exactly been sleeping well lately.”

“I know,” the woman replied, then blushed beet-red. “That is, I assumed . . . well, we all could have made that assumption when you passed out . . . but . . .”

With a panicked gasp, Rey jerked her hand around, water sloshing out of the cup. “Finn -- my friend, where is he?” He should have been her first thought upon waking, she scolded herself.

The woman placed a placating hand on her arm to calm her. “He’s here, in his own room.”

“And he -”

“He will be well. The arrow came out cleanly. Who’s to say how long his recovery will be; he took a long time to regain consciousness.”

Rey bit the inside of her lip. “And he passed out almost as soon as he was shot.”

“Did he?” the woman asked with a heightened interest. “That may confirm the duke’s suspicions.”

“Suspicions?” Rey repeated.

“Yes. A shot in that part of the body would not normally have such a strong effect. That’s not to say it’s not dangerous,” she backtracked awkwardly. “If unattended, it can lead to unconsciousness from eventual blood loss, or infection. But, though he clearly lost blood, it was not enough to signify. And he took so long to wake up once the arrow was removed that Sir Charles guessed there was more to that arrow than anybody knew.”

“Poison?” Rey asked worriedly.

“Of a sort,” the woman replied. “But not meant to kill, only incapacitate. Were you both within range of the archer?”

“Yes.”

“And the archer wouldn’t have gained anything by killing  _ you _ , so it’s possible that . . .”

Rey nodded in understanding. She had been sure that the soldier would not have killed her, and if there was poison in her darts, it would not have been lethal with  _ her _ as a target. For Finn’s sake, she was grateful. And then something occurred to her.

“You know who I am.”

The woman blushed again, trying to hide her face behind bouncy black hair. “Forgive me, your Highness. I do.”

“Why would you need forgiveness for knowing who I am?” Rey asked with a raised brow.

“I wasn’t . . . that is, we weren’t sure . . . perhaps you were trying to keep your identity secret.”

Rey sighed morosely. “I think there was little chance of that. Considering where I came from.”

“Yes,” the woman agreed. “And the reports we’ve had from Aldera. It’s been at least a fortnight since we knew of your disappearance. And the earliest reports suggested you were going south, through Endor.”

“To return to Jakku?” Rey asked incredulously.

The woman nodded.

Rey shook her head. “No. I wouldn’t go back there.”

The woman made no reply, but sat silently as Rey took another few sips of water. Belatedly, Rey asked, “What’s your name?” Perhaps her mind was still a little foggy.

“Rose,” the woman replied with a smile and the smallest hop in her chair. “Rose Tico.”

“Thank you for your help, Rose,” Rey said sincerely. “And for your information. I’m sure you didn’t think you’d have to answer all my questions.”

“It is my pleasure, your Highness. If you have more, I will be happy to oblige you. I was hoping that when Maz - that is, Lady Mary - asked me to take a shift, that I might be able to speak to you.”

Rey turned her head from side to side. It was a small room she occupied, but pleasant. The shutters were open to the sun, and the polished wood floor gleamed. “I am in the home of the duke of Bacca, aren’t I?”

“Yes. Sir Charles and his wife, the duchess Mary. Though she insists we call her Maz.”

Rey nodded again. There had been little cause to doubt her location, but it was still a relief to have it confirmed. She looked at her bound arm.

“And my wrist?”

“Isn’t broken,” Rose replied quickly. “But it was very swollen, and the physician didn’t dare leave it alone in case you disturbed it while you slept. I was the one who wrapped it; I hope you don’t mind,” she finished a little shyly.

“Not at all,” Rey assured her. “You seem to have all the healing knowledge here.”

Rose ducked her head. “Not really. At least, I am learning. I hope to become a physician myself; that’s why Dr. Kalonia allowed me to assist with you and your friend.”

Rey smiled. Rose Tico’s manner was a breath of fresh air after years of restraint from all around her. She was cheerful and open, and Rey was quietly delighted that her rank didn’t stop up Rose’s chatter. She was disposed to encourage it, and did so by asking about Rose’s studies, a subject on which Rose happily discoursed until they were interrupted by the arrival of another servant who had been sent to enquire if her Highness was awake and felt well enough to eat. Rey answered that question heartily in the affirmative.

* * *

At last Rey was able to connect a face to the matronly voice she had heard before, that of Lady Mary. And if Rose was petite, she was nothing to the “diminutive duchess”, an appellation the lady herself used in a jovial manner when she interrupted Rey’s meal. Accompanied by the large, friendly dog that nearly matched her in height, she strode into the room with a great deal of authority, commanding servants with a confident, though kind, air. Then she sat down across the table from Rey, occasionally lifting a hand to either pet the ever-present Chewie, or run it through her wild mane of gray-streaked red hair.

“So,” the duchess began after opening pleasantries were over, “I hope you took the time to see your friend before coming down to gorge yourself.” She fixed large, penetrating eyes on Rey, letting her know that even a princess was not above decent consideration for an injured friend.

Rey wiped her fingers on the napkin provided (after nearly a month of deprivation, she had instinctively returned to her Jakkuvian habits of shoveling food into her mouth with her hand), relieved for her own sake that she had stopped at Finn’s room before coming down to the dining hall. She didn’t wish to invite Lady Mary’s disapproval. With a nod, she replied, “Yes, but he was asleep. Rose told me that he was awake earlier today for a couple of hours, though. The next time he wakes, I hope to see him as quickly as possible.”

The duchess lifted a brow, but looked mostly in approval at Rey before gesturing at her to continue.

“I must thank you, Lady Mary, for -” Rey began, and the duchess immediately stopped her with a tiny hand laid on her arm.

“Please, this is not a place where we stand on ceremony. Unless you insist on it, your Highness. I did not grow up accustomed to fine ways, and neither did my husband. My own servants call me by my preferred name of Maz, and I will ask that you do the same.”

“Of course,” Rey said with another nod. “I didn’t grow up with royal manners, either. I would prefer to hear my own name rather than all the titles.”

“Then we’re agreed,” Maz leaned back in her chair. “But you were going to thank me before; I’d like to hear that, at the very least.” As severe as her reproaches must be, she was also capable of a merry twinkle in her eye.

Rey bit back a laugh. “Of course. I must thank you, Maz, and your husband for giving us houseroom, and for your help with Finn. I was truly afraid for him.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I know that my being here isn’t convenient. And it probably isn’t safe for you, either,” Rey realized as she spoke. Finn’s assurances that they would not be followed through the canyon now seemed a little flimsy, since she had made it through in the dead of night without even knowing the way herself.

“Oh, we’re not afraid of a little danger here,” Maz said with a wave of her hands. “You haven’t seen enough of the place, probably, but it’s defensible enough, and Bacca isn’t one to take chances. He took a few of his men up with him to block off the passage. Set up some traps and obstacles to deter anyone who might have wanted to follow you. Not too much, though. He’ll want to make sure it’s clear again the next time he wants to ride off during one of our fights.” She smiled again.

Rey couldn’t quite match her smile. She had noticed on her brief walk through the manor that, though it was comfortable enough, it was more of a fortress than a luxurious house. And the guilty feelings she had begun to ruminate on after the gallop of two nights ago had again intruded into her thoughts. She and Finn had set out so confidently to gather support from abroad, returning with sword in hand to take what was hers, but the more she thought of it, the less she liked the idea of putting others at risk for her own cause. The duchess didn’t appear at all perturbed, but still she was a stranger. Was it really right to ask people she didn’t know to help her and put their lives in danger?

“What is it, child?” Maz asked. “Ought we to send you back to bed?”

“No, that isn’t it,” Rey protested, although the idea was enticing. “I am well.”

“Are you sure? We wouldn’t want you to take sick yourself.”

“No, really,” Rey insisted. “I’m not feeling ill at all. I’m only . . .” She didn’t want to offend Maz and think her ungrateful for her hospitality, but she knew she couldn’t stay. “I need to get to Aldera, and I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary. Your people don’t deserve to be punished just because this was the way I came.”

Maz eyed her shrewdly, then with another pat to the dog at her side, she said, “As to that, you needn’t be afraid that we can’t defend ourselves. That comes with the territory of being situated as we are. But my husband and I like it that way; a comfortable situation would never have suited us. In fact, when the queen bestowed the dukedom on Bacca, he requested this place as his seat. That might give you an idea of the kind of adventurers we are.”

Rey blinked in surprise. What kind of people had she fallen in among?

“Well, I appreciate your generosity, but it was never our intention to stay here. I always meant to go on to Aldera.”

“Of course you did, child. Now you’re here, it’s obvious that you ran of your own accord., and need somewhere to take refuge.”

“Was there a question of that?” Rey asked. “Why I escaped?”

Maz let out a small laugh. “Child, the first report was only that you were gone. None of us knew if you escaped yourself or if it was an abduction. We hear a great many things, but even we can’t be inside your head.”

Rey nodded. “Of course. I’m sorry. Yes, I escaped of my own will, and my plan was to go to Aldera and beg the queen’s assistance to help me overthrow Snoke.”

Maz sobered at Rey’s blunt admission. With a slow nod, she said, “Then we’ll help you get there. But you can’t think we’d send you on before you’re recovered.”

“I would rather not wait.”

“Well, you’ll have my husband to argue with on that point, then. I’m not going to pry into what brought you here, although you’ve just confirmed some of our guesses. But my husband has questions, and he’ll want them answered, that’s certain. That horse you rode in on, for one.”

The blush rose before Rey could stop it. So far she had managed to keep thoughts of Kylo at bay. But the mention of his horse brought him to the forefront. Where was he now? Was he safe? Would she see him again?

Maz was regarding her with narrowed eyes, and Rey got the distinct feeling that she knew more than she was letting on. She stuffed a piece of toast into her mouth awkwardly, then rose to her feet. “I’d like to see him, if that’s all right.”

“The duke?”

“Falcon. The horse.”

Maz smiled secretively, then stood, as well. At their appearance in the hall, a servant jumped to attention and began to step forward, but Maz waved him off, saying she would show the princess to the stables herself. As they emerged into the cool air, Maz kept up a stream of interesting chatter, the barbarian history of the manor and how it had come to be a holding of Alderaan, the elevation of Sir Charles for services to the queen, and the surprising revelation that, despite their relatively advanced age, the duke and duchess had married only three years before.

“Not that there weren’t hints for the past thirty years,” Maz joked. “I was always threatening that I would abduct him and keep him on my ship, and he would growl like his dog here, and tell me that when I least expected it, that would be when he carried  _ me _ off. I didn’t really expect to enjoy living in mountain country; I grew up on the ocean. But I’ve come to like it, and sometimes it is a relief to know it’s steady ground beneath my feet, and steady arms to warm me at night.”

Rey’s eyes widened and she ducked her head in embarrassment at Maz’s insinuations, but Maz only chuckled mildly and went on without shame. “Oh, you’ll understand when you see him. There’s nothing quite like . . . well, perhaps I’ll stop there and save your maiden ears from too much ribaldry,” she spoke with a quirked smile.

“What services did the duke perform for Queen Leia?” Rey asked quickly, eager to change the subject. And counteract the blush that threatened at her memory of strong hands encircling her waist, lifting her as though she weighed nothing.

Maz glanced at her in mild surprise. “They didn’t teach you much they didn’t want you to know, did they?”

The threatening blush immediately was tamped back, and Rey felt uncomfortable for a different reason entirely. She knew very well there were gaps in her education, particularly about the Nine Realms, things that Hux had glossed over and outright ignored, but she didn’t like being reminded of it.

“Bacca was a commander in the Alderaanian army during the Imperial War,” Maz stated simply but carefully, as if she sensed Rey’s further discomfort. The Imperial War was the very conflict that had seen the downfall of her grandfather and the dissolving of the Naboo Empire. She didn’t regret the outcome, but she felt awkward at the association. Maz went on. “He had a less-than-savory past, which is how I met him, but he became a fighter and hero against the Empire. Although I should say that it was not his part in the war that endeared him to the queen. They were already great friends, nearly family. Han was very dear to him. They were brothers-in-arms, as the saying goes, for years.”

They reached their destination, and Rey was amazed to see not simply one building, but rather rows of well-maintained stables that expanded out a long way into the reaches of the valley. Falcon would have no cause to complain, if he had a voice to complain with.

The sight of the enormous stables were almost enough to distract her from Maz’s forlorn mention of Han Solo. Despite the minimal information she had been given about Alderaan, she knew his name just as well as that of Leia Organa. He was a hero (or annoyance, as Hux sneered at the necessary mention of him) of the Alderaanian army, as well as the eventual husband and consort of Leia. Rey would have liked the opportunity to meet him as well as the queen, but that could never be. Han Solo had been dead for five years.

“Here we are,” Maz said, her tone a little more cheerful as they turned into the first building. It was an impressive sight, and the horses were even more so, ranging in color from cream to midnight black. It was a black horse that Rey was looking for, and quickly located. Falcon nickered at her approach, tossing his head and coming near. Maz produced half an apple and handed it to Rey, who held it out for Falcon to take, his rough lips tickling her fingers.

“He’s looking well, isn’t he?” a booming voice said from behind them, and Rey turned to see the giant man who had taken Kylo’s crossbow from her.

Maz sauntered to him quickly, and he gathered her up in his arms for a smacking kiss, and Rey averted her eyes, not simply for propriety’s sake. She had to hide her shock that this savage-looking behemoth was, in fact, Sir Charles.

“I’d say so,” Maz answered his question. “Grimtaash was more than happy to welcome her brother.”

Rey’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Brother? Grimtaash?”

Maz and her husband exchanged an indecipherable look, but Sir Charles stepped forward and held out his hand to her without clarification. Rey met his hand with hers, and was awed at the sensation that her hand disappeared in his. It was difficult to read his expression with his face covered in a thick beard of brown, black, and silver; she hoped, rather than knew, he wasn’t displeased by her intrusion.

“Your Highness,” he greeted gruffly. “I’m glad to welcome you here, and proud that you’re seeing our greatest creation.”

Rey smiled silently, still a little confused, and Maz spoke up again. “You were kind enough to not inquire why I gave up the sea, but perhaps some explanation is required. Bacca could not be parted from his hobby,” she said, gesturing around her to the many stalls, “and I was too soft-hearted to deprive him of his children.”

She spoke in an overly tolerant tone, and Sir Charles let go of Rey’s hand with a loud guffaw. “ _ Our _ children now, my lady. I had to provide you progeny somehow, woman.”

Rey looked around at the well-kept stalls.  _ Hobby _ was too light a word to use for the expansive operation the duke ran. He reached out to Falcon, who nuzzled his hand lightly. Rey noted that he stroked Falcon’s nose in a manner reminiscent of Kylo’s farewell to his horse. There was an undeniable fondness in his manner, although as Rey studied his small black eyes (the only part of his face she could clearly see), she saw a hint of melancholy.

“You know this horse,” Rey said just as the realization hit her.

He snorted. “Know him!” he exclaimed. “Didn’t I raise his mother from a filly? Without question, I know him, and he knows me. He was born here, eight years ago now.”

Rey’s lips parted, and Maz was quick to speak. “Bacca’s horses get sent all over the Nine Realms; they’re rightly famous.”

Rey nodded slowly; that would explain how Kylo would have a horse that came from this place, and even possibly why Falcon was familiar with the canyon she had crossed. But something else in the duke’s manner was mysterious.

“He knew just where to go, didn’t you, you little rascal?” Sir Charles spoke to Falcon like an indulgent father. “You wanted some coddling, so you went right next to your big sister.” Rey looked into the next stall to see another horse, smaller than Falcon but just as dark. She smiled at the thought of Falcon being reunited with his family.

“You had a rough ride, but you’re just as fresh as if you’d had two weeks’ rest, aren’t you? And you had a rough ride yourself, didn’t you?” Sir Charles turned back to her. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m well, thank you, my lor- uh, Sir -” Rey stumbled, remembering Maz’s words about doing away with proper titles.

“Bacca will do,” he said shortly. “Nobody could call me Charles with a serious face from the time I was a colt, so nicknames and titles are what stick.”

Maz snickered behind him, and Rey smiled shyly. “All right. I’m doing very well. Rest and a good meal have helped, and if you’ll help me find my way, and allow Finn to stay here until he’s recovered, I’ll be gone within a day.”

He reared up in surprise at that, and with another exchange of meaningful glances to his wife that Rey could not read, he said, “Now, I’m glad to lodge your friend, but a day? You can’t be that fit to -”

Now it was her turn to interrupt. “Don’t forget that I lived most of my life in poverty. I know my limitations in hardship. I’m not trying to act brave; I really do feel well enough to go on to Aldera as quickly as I can.”

“Well, you’ll still need to stay on here a few days, to see how your friend does and to make some plans.”

“Not to mention get you some appropriate clothes for meeting the queen,” Maz interjected.

The duke’s face scrunched up as he seemed to consider this a frivolous idea; Rey was inclined to agree with him. “Ah, Leia won’t mind her looks and clothes. She only stands on ceremony when she has to, for all her upbringing.”

“That may be,” his wife argued back, “but if the princess doesn’t want damaging reports of her appearance to be carried around the Realms, and especially back to Theed, she will need to be a little more presentable. Apologies, Rey, but with your sling and clothing, and that nasty cut on your face, you appear far weaker than you are, and there is something to be said for presenting a strong image. Leia would understand that.”

Bacca shrugged, conceding the point. “So you see that you can’t leave within a day. Besides, I have questions for you that I want answered.” Rey saw Maz from behind give her a pointed look, as if to say  _ What did I tell you? _ “The first of which is how in the Nine Realms you managed to steal this horse from the Captain of the Knights of Ren.” Even behind the beard, Rey could see his broad grin, as if the idea was excessively humorous.

“I didn’t steal him.”

The grin dropped. “What?” Bacca’s voice changed drastically, becoming unsure and far less boisterous.

“I didn’t steal him,” Rey repeated solemnly. “Kylo gave him to me just on the other side of the pass, to help me get through. He fought off the soldiers who blocked our way.”

Maz stepped forward to stand beside her husband, her face shrouded in subdued shock. “Are you joking with us, child?”

Rey would have been offended by the question, but the hushed way Maz asked was too stunned to give offense. “No. He put me . . . and Finn . . . on Falcon himself. Told me where I’d find your home.”

“And the crossbow?” Bacca asked eagerly, almost desperately.

“Yes. He gave me that, too.” Rey didn’t wonder at their surprise; to imagine Kylo Ren turning against Snoke was almost impossible. But there was something else she felt like she was missing. They were far more interested than expected. “It was him who made my escape possible. Not just at the pass, but from Theed. From Snoke. I think he planned my escape.”

Maz and Bacca had yet another prolonged, searching exchange of glances with each other. Maz nodded, barely perceptible, and he faced Rey, his beady eyes steely with determination.

“Then you’re probably right, Highness. We need to get you to Leia as soon as possible.”


	6. On the Road Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey sets out for Aldera and learns more about her heroes.

“I’m sorry I can’t come with you,” Finn said after Rey finished telling him her plans to leave in the morning. He grimaced in pain and frustration. “It was just an arrow to my back; it shouldn’t have taken so much out of me.”

“‘Just an arrow to your back’,” Rey scoffed. As if it was nothing. “Well, don’t forget what Rose said about the poison.”

He nodded, hardly comforted by the reminder. “Still. We were in this together, and I don’t feel right about you going on alone.”

“And I’m not going to risk any more lives than I have to,” Rey responded firmly. “It won’t be that much longer for you, I’m sure. Then you can come help me in Aldera.”

Finn smirked a little. “I’m sure they’ll welcome me with open arms.”

“Finn,” Rey chided gently. “The duke has given me every reason to believe that we won’t be turned away. Look at the treatment we’ve received here.”

“Look at the fact that you’re the princess of Naboo,” Finn countered. “I’m just -”

“My friend,” Rey interjected. “The first one I ever had. I’m not going to let them treat you any less than the good man you are. Besides, you’re the hero who got me out of Theed; it wouldn’t be a good move politically for them to ignore you.”

Finn gave her a small smile, a little reassured at her words. “You think you’re savvy enough to know what they’ll do -- politically?”

Rey took in a shaky breath. This would be her first foray into a real political interaction; she wished that the stakes surrounding it weren’t so cursedly high. “I hope so. We’ll see.”

“You’ll be fine. You have the ability to win people to your side that no one could ever have dreamed.”

Rey raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Is this when you finally admit you had a conspirator?”

Finn’s lips pursed together, perhaps in embarrassment, but more in sour reluctance. “Believe me, it was a shock when Kylo approached me. And I’m not saying I trust him any more than I ever did, but he was insistent about getting you out of Naboo, and I wasn’t about to argue with that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He practically ordered me not to. I honestly don’t know why; you’d think he’d play his change of sides as an advantage once you win -”

“That’s an optimistic view to take,” Rey muttered, but Finn ignored her.

“The best I can tell was he was trying to lay as low as possible. I don’t know; we didn’t exactly become bosom companions. He told me Snoke’s plans and why you needed to escape, and we made a plan to get you out. Beyond that, we said nothing to each other.”

Rey chewed the inside of her lip, understanding of Finn’s lingering dislike for the man, but wishing she had more insight into what made Kylo act in the manner he did.

Finn’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “You’ll keep me informed of what you’re up to, right?”

“Of course,” she replied. “And send me word when you’re ready to join me. They may not turn me away, but I can’t expect everyone at court to be as friendly as Bacca and Maz have been.”

* * *

Rose was fitting a new sling around Rey’s neck, one made of a finer fabric that coordinated better with the dress Maz had scrounged up the previous evening, now packed away to keep tidy until she reached Aldera and stood before Queen Leia. It didn’t fit Rey precisely, and she felt awkward in borrowed clothing, but she was glad for a fresh outfit. And Maz was right; it was important to present a strong image, to let Snoke know that she didn’t run out of fear or frailty, and she would not display herself as less than she was. Battered and bruised she may be, but she was also the rightful ruler of Naboo, and it was high time everyone knew it.

Rey also reveled in the feeling of a month’s worth of grime, sweat, and blood being washed away in the bath, her skin clean and chestnut hair braided back neatly. No, she didn’t think herself a raving beauty, but at least she wouldn’t shame herself by being ratty and disheveled when she went before the queen.

Rose finished fastening the sling, then stepped around Rey to inspect her handiwork.

“Thank you, Rose. You’ve been so helpful,” Rey said sincerely.

Rose rolled her eyes a little. “Dr. Kalonia may have had a hand in it, too. But you’re welcome.”

“You’ll look after Finn for me, won’t you?”

Rose smiled brightly. “An excuse to keep my eyes on a handsome and brave guard? Yes, please.”

She snickered and Rey smiled gently. “Thank you. I’ll feel better knowing you’re here to . . . watch him.” She sobered quickly, though. “Don’t let him travel to Aldera before he’s ready. I don’t want to risk his life again. I’m sorry for the danger I’ve put all of you in.”

Rose scrutinized her closely. “You’ve mentioned that a couple of times today. You’re really worried about putting others at risk.”

Rey bowed her head. “It seems selfish to ask so much of everybody. And Finn already sacrificed so much for me.”

“You’d do the same for him, wouldn’t you?” Rose asked. “Without being asked, you’d risk your life to defend and protect your friends and loved ones.” Rey couldn’t deny it. “That’s what it’s really about, isn’t it? Saving what we love? Finn knows you’re worth the fight. You shouldn’t feel guilty for his choice. It cheapens his sacrifice if you turn the gift of his loyalty away. If you turn away the hand of anyone who wants to help you. Because you’d do it, too, if it was your friend in danger.”

“That may be, but what about all the people I don’t know that will get caught up in all this?”

Rose considered the question for a moment, then spoke a little more reverently, her words carefully chosen. “There are more things worth dying for than other people, your Highness. That is what inspires mankind to fight the world over, not only for sovereigns and families, but for principles and ideals that need to be defended. And putting down a tyrant and restoring freedom to a suffering nation is definitely one of those ideals.”

Rey reflected on Rose’s speech even after she had bid farewell to Finn and Maz, and was on the road to Aldera alongside Sir Charles later that morning. The guilty feeling in her gut hadn’t eased entirely, but she was glad for Rose’s insight.

Rey allowed Bacca to set the pace for their journey, an easy canter that would not tire their horses too quickly. She rode astride Falcon again, as the duke had insisted the horse would be offended at being left behind. It was a little strange to be out in the open, after the previous weeks of striving to remain hidden. But she felt completely safe with the intimidating duke, Kylo’s crossbow bouncing at her side. She thought she spotted a similar, larger one hanging from Bacca’s gear, but she didn’t look too closely.

They cleared the Bacca valley and rode through long stretches of farmland, dotted with the occasional village and plenty of greenery. On horseback, they would reach Aldera in the afternoon of the following day. It was a comfortable journey, the hottest part of summer gone, and the brisk air bracing but not chill-inducing. They stopped at midday to rest the horses and partake in the light meal provided for them, and were on their way again.

Now that Rey had a better idea of the duke’s close relationship to the queen, she was itching for further knowledge. If Sir Charles was a hero in the Imperial War, a close friend of Leia Organa and Han Solo, then perhaps he also knew Luke Skywalker, another figure that filtered in and out of the events that had shaped the recent history of the Nine Realms. She was curious, but conversation wasn’t easy during their rides, and she was a little shy of asking Bacca while they rested.

When they stopped at an inn that night, however, Rey was given her opportunity. They had finished a wholesome, if tasteless, meal (not that Rey had a mind to complain if it filled her stomach), and were sitting comfortably in the private dining room Bacca had requested. Rey felt tiredness seeping into her bones and was at first ready to retire, but Bacca was nursing a pint of ale and seemed disposed to converse. After studying her over his tankard, he asked, “Do you think you’re ready for tomorrow?”

Rey’s nerves fluttered within her, and tried not to waver in her reply. “I believe I am. I don’t wish to ask more than is my due, but I will trust in Leia’s kindness.”

“‘More than is your due’?” Bacca repeated. “Does this have to do with that nonsense Maz was telling me about your fears of putting others in danger?”

Rey’s temper flared slightly. “Since when is it nonsense to value life? Why should my concerns be shunted aside like they’re nothing?”

“All right, all right,” he soothed gruffly. “I take your point. And it’s a noble thing, to have those concerns. You remind me of . . . but that doesn’t matter. What matters now is what you present to the court, and it would be a mistake to go to Leia and prostrate yourself at her feet, even if that’s what you really feel.”

“I don’t understand,” Rey admitted in confusion.

“Well, it’s like Maz said. Your stay in Aldera will not be a secret to Snoke, and he’ll be on the hunt for news of your state -- physical, mental, what-have-you. So, be courteous and humble in your request -- those proper folks will drive you out if you’re as pompous as them --, but if you go to her like some undeserving serf who is willing to ask only for a crumb when she needs a whole loaf, you can bet that Snoke will pounce on that.”

Rey furrowed her brow, a little offended at the image Bacca described. She hadn’t planned to appear as some quivering underling. “But I don’t really know anymore that I want to ask for troops and armies and all that. What if I want to find another way?”

“That’s all well and good. And tell Leia that yourself when you can be sure no one is listening. But in public, you go straight for the punch. Politely,” he amended with a scowl. Court politics and manners were not something he relished. “Ask for armies. Send word to the other nations. Gather allies. You may not like having to use them, but you may need them despite all your best efforts to reduce bloodshed.”

“Do you think anybody will listen?” Rey suddenly felt very small. What chance did she really have?

Bacca regarded her sternly. “Sure, they will, if you give them something worth hearing. You’re going to have to put on a show, but as long as what you’re showing is what’s real, they’ll come. Snoke’s army is . . . well, I won’t lie, it’s big. And it’ll take some doing to collect the numbers necessary to stand against it, but his name is just as despised as . . .” he trailed off with a strange glance her way.

“Sheev Palpatine,” she finished for him with a stony face.

He nodded, awkward but grateful that she said the name so he wouldn’t have to. “And if there is a chance to depose him, to restore true peace among the Nine Realms and put in a queen who actually wants the good of her people, the other sovereigns and councils will listen. You can believe that. Why do you think you had so many marriage propositions in the last year? Those nations were looking for a diplomatic way to get their foot in the door.”

Rey pulled up, stunned, and then laughed. It was a bitter subject, but the sheer ridiculousness of the situation and Bacca’s blunt explanation of all those envoys hit a chord within her that needed to be played. It was a relief to loose her voice so freely.

“If only all conflicts could be solved by a marriage alliance,” she mused.

Bacca inclined his head in agreement. “If only. Leia even admitted once she considered proposing a marriage between herself and your father, to bring down the Empire from within. It was too obvious a plan, and the emperor would have turned it down flat, but it was a possibility.”

“Leia knew my father?” Rey asked eagerly. Would there finally be a glimpse of him in Bacca’s recollections?

“Only that he existed,” Bacca admitted, and Rey deflated. “The emperor kept him hidden away, and it was noised abroad that he was a sickly sort. In the last year of the war, all mention of him stopped, and we assumed that he had died. We figured it was a more merciful outcome than having to live with a father like that.”

Rey was silent for a few minutes, and Bacca didn’t break the silence, allowing her to ponder on the father she never knew. What a tangled mess the world was, when death was a kinder fate than life. And yet, for at least another few years after the fall of the Empire, her father had lived. Would she ever know his story?

She looked up at Bacca, who waited patiently for her to speak.

“So Leia considered marriage to my father, but then became a general. Maz told me you were a commander. Han Solo was another, wasn’t he?”

Bacca nodded. “He was. Not in the traditional sense, and neither was I. Can’t be traditional if you make your start in a Corellian prison. But we teamed up, and . . . well, I won’t bore you with the details, but our fight against the Empire took place in back rooms of inns and taverns, and cavorting with pirates and other outlaws -- just scraping by, really. We didn’t have a ring in the fight, to be honest, we just wanted to do our business and be left alone. Maz, at least, had her principles and would only take the loot that would hurt the Empire. Han and I were less honorable, although we considered going legitimate as we got to know the horses along the routes we took. It was a pleasure to find a good mount you could trust in a pinch.”

Rey didn’t want to interrupt with an exclamation, but she didn’t miss the implication that Maz was some sort of smuggler-pirate. What other revelations were in store for her in Alderaan?

“But that all changed when we took a job to rescue . . . well, a mouthy princess.” Bacca chuckled and nodded toward Rey. “Can’t seem to avoid that, I guess. But it was a strange affair. Leia’d gotten herself into a sticky mess, and the only person who got word of her capture was Luke.”

“Skywalker?” Rey perked up again. These were exactly the tales she had hoped to hear. Bacca hesitated briefly, but he shrugged and continued reminiscing.

“Luke was so green then,” he said with an amused huff, “and impatient, a Tatooine farm boy with a taste for adventure. Han and I were in the smuggling game for a long time before we met him, so we knew when to lay low and when to make a ruckus. But Luke, he had a lot to learn, though he was a capable fighter from the start. And he knew just what to say to perk our interest, so we agreed to help him rescue Leia. It wasn’t easy, and Han and Leia bickered like hens right away -- should have known how that would end up. Han was ready to drop her at the first chance, but Luke was stubborn about finishing the job right. After that, Han offered him a spot on our crew, but Luke preferred to operate a little more within the law, such as it was in those days. Probably had a conscience after all the time he spent with Father Kenobi in the Dagobah monastery.”

“Was he a priest, too?” Rey asked in surprise. Luke Skywalker, rebellion hero, and man of the cloth?

“Of sorts. Never took orders, but treated religion seriously.” Bacca shrugged a lone shoulder. “He was an odd mix. Hot-headed and ready to scrap, but also sometimes very still, as though waiting for inspiration from the Almighty. The next few years, we all found our roles to play in the war. Han and I turned our efforts to undermining criminal elements that supported the Empire, as well as a few command posts here and there. And Leia was always the strategist, born and bred to it. She knew where and what needed to get done, planning years into the future, but Luke was the one who figured out how to accomplish Leia’s goals in the short term. Whether it was liberating prisoners, making a run -”

“Or blowing up entire compounds,” Rey interrupted with a grin. Much to Hux’s dismay, that was her favorite story about the mythical Luke.

“Yes. His first and most public victory. He was an instant hero. Though the loss of life never sat too well with him. Came from Kenobi’s influence and teachings; for a fighter, Luke was soft-hearted. He wished later he’d come up with a way to destroy the fort without losing so many people. Probably why he fought so hard in the end for Vader.”

Another moment of silence at the introduction of the other infamous name from the Imperial War. Rey was subdued as she asked, “Did you know that he was Skywalker’s father?”

“Not until it was all over,” Bacca answered with a shake of his head. “For all the time we spent with him, and it was a lot, Luke kept that secret close to the vest. I still don’t know when he found out, or if he’d always known. But he somehow convinced Leia to let him go to Vader, and infiltrate the emperor’s stronghold in the south. We were sure he was going to his death, but we did our part to distract the Imperial army with our usual bout of mayhem.”

“Is that what you call the battle of Endor?” Rey asked with a hint of irony. Bacca meekly shrugged again.

“Anyway, it wasn’t until the battle was done, and Luke came back, a cauterized stump for a hand, Vader’s sword in the other, and the news that the emperor was defeated, that we found out. He was adamant that everyone knew it was Vader who threw down the emperor, and when we asked why it was so important to him, he told us his connection.” He paused. “That was Luke. Impulsive and creative, stubborn and loving. Even toward a man who had worked the emperor’s will for twenty years, an enemy we all hated. Luke wanted the people to know redemption was possible for anybody.”

“What happened to him?” Rey asked beseechingly. She had wondered this for years.

Bacca took one last swig of his drink. “Oh, that’s his own story to tell, if you ever meet him. But he wasn’t a leader like Leia, and he knew it. Of course he would have a title and a place in her court, but he had more good reasons not to stay. He’d done and seen too much to feel like he could ever be at peace in public life.”

“You all fought for years,” Rey argued, then immediately regretted it. It felt disloyal somehow to question Luke Skywalker’s reasoning.

“True. But it was different for Luke, with all his godly ways and having to face the emperor directly. None of us ever had to do that, not even Leia. He never told us everything that happened when he turned himself over to Vader, but the experience changed him. I think it took more than his hand to convince Vader to turn. Anyway, he refused a public life, and we didn’t blame him for that. It was hard enough for Han and me to become respectable figures after the war was over.”

“And here you’re a duke and he was the prince consort,” Rey said with half a smile.

“Yeah, well, don’t let that fool you,” he said with a fierce grin. “We were scoundrels to begin with, and a scoundrel Han stayed. But that was why Leia liked him, though she wouldn’t admit it for a long time. They could bicker and butt heads like mountain goats, but they were loyal to each other for all that. You couldn’t cross one without the other roaring to their defense. It was why Han stayed with her and left the horse breeding to me.

“But I think that’s where we’ll stop, Highness,” Bacca’s voice changed abruptly, his body straightening. “You need rest, and we’ve still got a bit of a ride ahead of us tomorrow. You’ve managed to get me to talk on things I haven’t done in a long time, but don’t go thinking it’ll happen again.”


	7. The General Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey meets the queen and makes her most important discovery yet.

At her first sight of Aldera, Rey was confused. She had expected something more like Theed, a walled city with a central palace overlooking it all. But while Aldera was surrounded by a stone wall, there was no distinguishable palace towering over the rest of the capital. Bacca explained that Aldera was divided into various sectors, with their own characteristics based on the trades of those who inhabited them. The royal home was no different. It was not a single palace, but rather a compound in and of itself, a separate community within the city for the members of the court to live and conduct affairs of state. The principal state building was situated near the front gates, a converted citadel that contained the official chambers where business was conducted and various feasts and balls were held, as well as housing a basement for the library and archives. Its layout was immense, both in width and length, but it stood only a little higher than the residences of the courtiers, two or three stories tall.

Aldera was an ancient city, although Rey saw evidence of recent renovations as they rode through the clothier’s quarter, where dress shops, fabric sellers, and tailor’s booths filled the streets with splashes of color. Again Bacca was her tutor, reminding her that Alderaan had been one of the chief targets of Imperial destruction, and as such, had needed far more improvements than the other Realms once the war was over. But, this was to Aldera’s advantage now, as it grew into a modern city after the initial years of rebuilding.

Rey was fascinated when they approached the royal gates. These buildings may not have loomed over the other sections of the city, but they were built on a finer scale. Rough gray stonework gave way to smooth, cream-colored walls that surrounded the entire quarter. The visible family homes situated on the far side of the state house were built richly of brick, stone, and wood in elegant fashion. And through it all, beautiful gardens with wide, curving walking paths bloomed splendidly. Bacca directed Rey straight toward the state house, where a few attendants jumped from their perches to help them alight from their mounts.

Rey looked up, the building intimidating in its grandeur, then felt Bacca’s giant hand rest on her shoulder. He gave her a bracing smile, and a quick nod, but when he glanced toward the entry stairs, he let out a nearly inaudible groan. Rey followed his eyes to see a rail-thin man stepping carefully down the stairs, clearly coming to greet them. Rey steeled herself for the worst.

“Ah, Sir Charles!” the man cried out in a prim voice. “Welcome back to Aldera. I do hope your journey was not terribly uncomfortable.”

Bacca muttered an adequate reply, but his eyes darted from side to side in irritation. Rey stifled her laughter; she had worried this man was an unfriendly enemy of the duke’s. Now it seemed he was only a nuisance that Bacca tolerated.

“And I must assume that you are her Highness, the Princess Rey Palpatine of Naboo,” the man turned his deferential tone on her, and her humor vanished. She had forgotten that it would be necessary to use her complicated surname. The man didn’t notice her foul expression, or chose to ignore it, while he went on. “I am Chief Steward Pellam Odard. I am pleased to welcome you to our city. The queen has instructed me to direct you to your suite in her residence so you might refresh yourself.”

Bacca spoke up hastily. “Later. We wish to see her Majesty right away. Where can we find her?”

“Oh, no, that would be most irregular. I must insist on doing my duty, Sir Charles, and Queen Leia strictly ordered -”

“The princess didn’t come all this way just to wait at the door. The queen knows she’s coming, and we want to see her now.”

“She is currently in council, and it would not do to interrupt her,” Master Odard argued, but Bacca took Rey’s good arm in his hand, and with firm step, led her up the stairs and into the open doorway without listening further. Rey looked back at the spluttering steward in pity; it wasn’t his fault that his adherence to orders was in direct contrast to Bacca’s forceful manner. Even now, he continued shouting futilely at their backs.

Bacca steered her along, not bothering to reply to Master Odard. An admirer of court he may not have been, but he knew where to find the queen on the little information Master Odard gave. Rey was reminded of her arrival in Theed, again hardly able to enjoy the finery around her as someone directed her path. At the very least, though, she could see that the updated layout of this building, wider and open to natural light with tall windows, made it a more welcoming place than her own luxurious palace. And, just as before, she was stopped before a tall set of double doors, intricate weaving patterns of gold and blue decorating their borders. But there would be no Kylo to emerge from the other side this time.

Rey expected Bacca to knock on the doors, and really, she hoped for a chance to catch her breath before being thrust into view. The few minutes she had been given to change into her dress before entering the city had hardly been adequate. But Bacca was not one to wait. His only warning to her was a final nod, and then he was opening a door and pushing her through, and the din of clamouring voices filled her ears.

A long, narrow hall was exposed to view, chairs lining the walls and leading up to an elevated platform on the opposite end. The chairs were occupied by various people, but Rey only had eyes for the woman who sat on the platform. The discussion was cut short at her appearance, and silence reigned, allowing Rey’s footsteps to echo clearly as Bacca nudged her forward. The woman, clad in charcoal-gray, her hair bound around her head in braids, stood and folded her hands in front of her, waiting patiently. Regally, Rey amended to herself, her breath hitching in her throat.

This was Queen Leia, and her very stillness made Rey want to run for the hills. Never had Rey’s past, scraping along to merely survive, dominated her feelings so forcefully, not since she had discovered her true lineage. But compared to this living legend, Rey felt small and dirty, unfit to even kneel in the queen’s presence.

_ Stop it! _ She told herself as she drew nearer.  _ This is not about you. This is about making things right for yourself and your people. And you are a princess, a rightful queen. Act like it, you ninny! _

A few steps before the platform, she drew to a halt, and dropped into a curtsy, miraculously managing not to trip over her skirt in the process.

“Your Majesty,” Bacca spoke, his voice rumbling through the chamber as he bowed.

“I am pleased to see that your arrival was not delayed, Sir Charles,” Leia spoke clearly. “There were no problems, I trust?”

“None, ma’am, thank you.” Bacca took a small step backward, and gestured to Rey. “May I present her Highness, the Princess Rey of Naboo.” He omitted the odious surname, which helped Rey feel a little better.

Leia now faced her fully. “Welcome among us, Princess. I understand you had a perilous journey before reaching our borders. I see you are injured?”

This was a test, Rey was sure. She could not hide the sling, but she also could not allow any reports to surface that she was incapacitated. Trying her best to remember proper etiquette, she replied carefully. “Only a mild sprain, your Majesty. It will be healed within a day or two. Thank you for your inquiry. I am grateful for your notice, and must beg your pardon, as my arrival was unannounced.”

Leia smiled faintly, her expression remote. “We were informed by the duke’s messenger yesterday that we should expect you, so we had some chance to prepare to receive you. Your apology is unnecessary. I am only glad to see that you are well.”

“You are most gracious, your Majesty,” Rey replied.

Silence fell over them once more, and Rey kept her eyes trained on the floor at Leia’s feet. Now that the moment had come, she was a bundle of nerves. What would these people think of her? How would the queen respond? Where were all the carefully rehearsed words that she had studied in her head over and over?

And still the queen waited. Rey dared to peer up at her, looking for some sign of disapproval, but found none. Only composure and expectancy. And perhaps a hint of challenge in the delicately raised brow. Rey took a shaky breath. It was now or never.

“I know that reports of my disappearance from Theed have reached you here and possibly across the Nine Realms. I have come here with an explanation and request. Lord Protector Snoke, the man who proclaims himself regent of Naboo, has made it clear that he will not relinquish leadership and authority to me as is my birthright. My . . . training and education may have begun late, but I am ready and capable of being consecrated and crowned queen of Naboo. The Lord Protector will not allow this, not unless it brings him further power. I am unable to gather the support I need from within my court to challenge him; therefore, I escaped in order to find friends elsewhere who will recognize and reinforce my rightful claim.”

Rey’s voice strengthened the longer she spoke, and she was nearly able to look the queen in the eye. “My requests are twofold,” she continued. “First, that you might grant me refuge in your city, so that I may gather the allies and support I require from a place of safety. Second, that you will provide whatever military power as is in your control to aid me in my fight against the interloper Snoke.”

Leia didn’t look at all astonished by Rey’s request. Perhaps she had been forewarned by Bacca’s message. And still she said nothing, only watched. Rey had reached the end of her planned speeches, but she sensed that Leia was providing her an opportunity to elaborate. She hesitated, still terribly unsure of herself, but on looking around at the sea of faces, she took a chance on speaking not from memory but from what she felt, praying that it would be well received.

“I know it is no small thing I ask of you. I am asking you to risk the lives of your people. But I do not ask this only for myself. My people, the citizens of Naboo, are suffering. Even from my limited view in Theed I can see it. Snoke seeks only power and absolute rule instead of attending to the needs of the nation. He is a tyrant that follows the dictates of an evil man long dead, and I will not allow him to crush the people beneath his heel any longer. I do wish to be invested in my rightful place, to stand at the head of my country, but I only ask this so I might right the wrongs that have been done, and to serve my people as they do me. By restoring peace within my country, something its citizens have not known since before the days of the Empire, it will then be possible to foster unity and cooperation among all the Nine Realms.”

There. Now she felt she was done. The worst was over, and she need only wait for a reply. The silence lingered for another moment, and then noise erupted from all around her. The men and women of Leia’s council all began to speak at once, to each other, to Leia, to her. The cacophony was so loud that Rey couldn’t distinguish one word from another. Leia, who had not joined in the hubbub, lifted her hands for attention, and the chamber was quiet again.

“I thank you, your Highness, for the trust and faith you put in me and my court,” Leia began, still very unreadable.  _ A true master of politics, _ Rey thought. “I am sorry to learn of your difficulties, although we have long been aware of strife within your country. I do hope you are able to resolve the conflict, but I will ask that you allow us to consider your request for aid. You will have an answer soon, but I must discuss this with my advisors.”

“Of course. I understand,” Rey said, bowing her head, ignoring the muted whispers of the council.

“As for your first request, I am prepared to offer you hospitality and safety as you make your plans. I invite you to rest now. You must be weary after your journey, and I have had rooms prepared for you. Sir Charles, if you would remain for a moment. Poe will escort the princess.” She motioned a dark-haired man over from one of the chairs, who promptly hastened to Rey’s side, offering her his arm. Rey curtsied again, not wanting to dispute the dismissal, although she privately wished Leia could give her an answer right away just to have done with it.

On the arm of this new stranger, Rey left the chamber suddenly weary. The nerves that had sustained her through the ordeal were spent, and she could think of nothing better than to tuck herself into the nearest corner and hide. She was surprised, therefore, to hear the words that the man murmured to her as they traversed the hallway.

“That was well done, Princess,” he said, drawing her eyes to him. His eyes danced a little, his well-formed mouth curving into the barest grin. “I must commend you. Feel better now?”

His compliment was a boon, but the surprise came from the informality of his question. After the cautious, formal words exchanged with the queen, Rey had quickly forgotten that real conversation was possible. And this man with the roguish good looks seemed to invite good humor in a single phrase.

“Much,” she admitted with a sigh of relief. “At least now I can say the worst is behind me.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Really? Challenging Snoke once you’ve gathered your armies won’t be more difficult?”

Rey smiled at his irony. “It will be far easier. Fighting is almost second-nature to me. I’ve lived most of my life with it. But I’ve never had to ask for assistance before.”

“Ah, a woman who can make her own way for herself,” he rejoined. “I like that.”

They had reached the entryway where the chief steward stood, practically hopping with anticipation that he would now be allowed to perform his duty. The stranger released her arm, but then took her hand in his in a fluid motion.

“I will leave you to Odard’s excellent guidance, Princess. I hope to have the pleasure of speaking with you again soon.” Before Rey could utter a word, he had drawn her hand up to his mouth, bestowing a light kiss on it before releasing her. She was dumbstruck at the action, and had trouble finding her voice after he sauntered away with another smile.

Master Odard babbled on beside her as he led her down the stairs and into the curving pathways that led to the royal residence, where he informed her she would stay as a guest.

“And I do hope you will find the accommodations to your liking, your Highness. We have done our utmost to give you the best rooms possible during your stay.”

Rey finally spoke, though her mind was still a little distracted. “I’m sure they will be more than comfortable. I have seen nothing to suggest otherwise so far.”

“You are very kind to say so, Princess.”

There seemed to be some danger that he would continue speaking in that unctuous way, deferring to her status and driving her mad with exaggerated solicitude, so Rey felt it necessary to deflect any more conversation on that score.

“The man who escorted me back, who is he?”

“Ah, that is the Lord Poe Dameron, Baron of Yavin,” Master Odard replied promptly. “He is a distant kinsman to the queen, and has been named her heir these two years.”

Rey started slightly. Not only had she exchanged words with the current monarch, but her hand had been kissed by the future king of Alderaan? “Oh?” was all she managed to say, turning her head so the steward would not see her eyes bulging.

“Yes, it was well past time that she named another successor, what with Master Ben being gone for so long. The people began to be concerned, but Lord Dameron was a logical and wise choice.”

“Master Ben?” Rey furrowed her brow curiously.

“Yes, of course,” Master Odard replied absently. “Though perhaps I should not refer to him so informally. Bad habits retained from his childhood, I am afraid.”

“Forgive my ignorance,” Rey said. “But I don’t know who you mean by Master Ben.”

This admission made Pellam stop in his tracks. “Is it possible you do not know, your Highness? Forgive me, but I assumed you did. Master Ben is the queen’s son, born of her union with Lord Han. That is to say, he  _ was  _ Ben Solo, the Crown Prince of Alderaan, Duke of Chandrila, lost mere months before the Prince Consort’s death five years ago.”

* * *

Rey dined with the queen in her home that night, joined by Bacca. It was fortunate he was there, as Rey was sure any discourse would be constrained had she been alone with Leia. There was the question, of course, of whether Leia would assist her, but the newest revelation about Leia’s family made Rey feel awkward. She knew that the queen had given her life to the cause of fighting the Empire, making sacrifice upon sacrifice in the name of liberty. And she had lost her husband in battle. But to know that she had also lost a son? Rey felt a little ashamed at asking more of her.

She concentrated on enjoying the food laid before her, allowing Bacca to dominate the conversation. But Leia, it seemed, was not content with letting Rey stay silent all evening. The meal was all but over when she turned her attention on Rey.

“You’ve been very quiet, your Highness,” Leia observed, startling Rey out of her focus. “Is the food not to your liking?”

Rey looked up to protest, and was relieved to see that the court mask the queen had worn this afternoon was replaced by a twinkle in her eye and a more ready smile.

“No, it . . . I mean, it is . . .” Rey stumbled over her words, cursing inwardly. Leia’s smile deepened. “That is, the food is excellent. I just . . .”

“Your mind is distracted by more important matters,” Leia concluded, all trace of formality done away. “I don’t blame you. If I were in your position, I wouldn’t be able to think of much else myself. You’ve been laid with a heavy burden. I’m impressed by how you’ve done so far.”

“Really?” Rey winced. Could she sound more like a child?

But Leia was kind and did not deride Rey’s yearning for approval. “Yes. Look at where you’ve come from. You could easily be resentful about being torn away from the life you knew.”

“It wasn’t much of a life,” Rey admitted.

“As hard as it must have been, it was still what you were accustomed to. I know I was surprised to hear of your sudden appearance. I can only imagine what you felt. And here you are, ready to claim your inheritance, when you have every excuse to run away from it. I admire that kind of character.”

“Thank you,” Rey said in a small voice. She couldn’t resist asking further. “Does this mean that you will help me?”

Leia paused. “In my heart, I wish to. And I think most of the members of my court agree. There are others with concerns, namely regarding your intentions once Snoke is overthrown. We all wish him gone, but some wonder if your words of unity and cooperation are a hint that you wish to restore the Empire.”

“What?” Rey exclaimed, nearly leaping to her feet. “Of course I don’t! That’s absurd. I grew up hating the Empire, and I don’t care if -”

“Pull the reins, there, Princess,” Bacca interrupted. “Leia didn’t say she agreed with those fools.”

Rey fumed silently, her breath huffing through her nose. The nerve of some people.

“This is the way a court works, Rey,” Leia said, her tone a little sterner, her use of Rey’s name intentional. “We would like to believe the best in people, but it is important to look at a question from all angles, especially in such a serious matter. And it’s important you know what they’re saying, so that you may allay their fears and show your true mettle. I want to help you, but I won’t lie to you. And oftentimes I will have to be blunt, whether or not you like it.”

Rey nodded, her throat tight at the mild rebuke. Tears prickled behind her eyelids, and she forced them back with furious blinking.

Leia continued more gently. “Chewie here tells me that, despite your fine words in the council chambers today, you’re not actually that interested in a fight.”

Rey looked up, perplexed. Wasn’t Chewie Bacca’s dog? “Do you mean -”

“I told you that titles and nicknames were all that actually fit me, and I haven’t always been the Duke of Bacca,” he said with a chuckle. “I was Chewie to everyone until Leia here forced nobility on me.”

“And Chewie you remained in our house,” Leia returned fondly. “Although it was a puzzle to Ben when he first heard you called ‘Charles’.”

Bacca’s reaction to Leia mentioning her son was strange. He cast a furtive glance to Rey, and back to Leia, a sudden urgency hunching his shoulders. Leia, for her part, seemed to understand him, a sad sigh escaping her while attempting a smile in Rey’s direction. It did nothing to relieve the immediate tension in the room. “Perhaps you will walk with me, Rey, before we retire. I’d like to show you the gallery.”

Rey followed her with a nod to Bacca, who remained seated, rigid and brimming with obvious concern. She couldn’t make sense of the change. But maybe Leia would explain it.

“I understand from my steward and Chewie that you were unaware of my son’s existence,” Leia said as she motioned Rey through a door.

“Forgive me, your Majesty, I’m afraid there were severe lapses in my education the last two years,” Rey blushed.

Leia stilled her by laying a hand on her arm, and said, “You don’t need to explain that to me. I wouldn’t expect Snoke to give you a fighting chance to know any of your potential allies, whether by name or reputation, unless he absolutely had to. And when we are alone, you may call me Leia. After all, I’ve taken the liberty of using your given name.”

Rey was humbled by the invitation. “I would be honored. Thank you.” She bit her lip, wondering if it was appropriate to offer condolences so long after the loss. “I was sorry to hear that you lost both your son and husband so closely to each other.”

Leia’s eyes clouded with grief, but she did not give way to it. “Thank you.”

Rey was instantly regretful for referring to painful memories; she wondered how many blunders she would make in front of the queen. “Forgive me, your Ma- Leia,” she hastened to say. “I should learn to keep my mouth shut.”

Leia gave her a half-smile, but sincere and understanding. “It was not your doing, and if you kept your mouth shut, I wouldn’t have hope for my son.”

“But -” Rey began, and then stopped. What did anything she said have to do with the crown prince? “But Master Odard said that your son was lost -”

“Lost,” Leia repeated. “But not dead.”

Rey almost jumped where she stood. This was a mystery, indeed. “But then why would -”

“Most in the court believe Ben is dead, and I let them believe so. Others know his death was never confirmed, and there is a possibility that he may return some day. Only a very few know the truth, those of us who have seen his face in the last five years.”

“And have you? Seen him?” Rey was puzzled beyond anything, but Leia was seemingly willing to share this secret with her, an exciting privilege.

Leia smiled again mysteriously. “I think  _ you _ might have,” she replied, turning into a tall room lined with pictures -- the gallery she had mentioned.

“What?” Rey exclaimed as she quickly followed. “No, that’s not possible. I’m sure I would remember meeting the Crown Prince of Alderaan.”

Leia didn’t respond to Rey’s protestations, and only looked around the dim room, the candles on the walls doing little to illuminate the subjects of the paintings. “The Organas have had the privilege of leading Alderaan for many generations. One of the tedious responsibilities of ruling is to occasionally have to sit for a portrait. I was only adopted in to the Organa line, but I was proud to bear the name, and even put up with the more boring obligations, such as this.”

Rey, at another time, might have been more interested in hearing Leia’s history, but she was frustrated by Leia’s unwillingness to explain why she thought Rey had seen her son. Leia gestured to a painting of a man and woman. “Bail and Breha, my parents. They were unable to conceive a child, and were afraid that the cousin who was next in line would yield more power to the Empire, while they spent much of their lives rebelling against it. So they took me in, adopted me, and loved me. They quietly changed the ancient laws of our country so that a monarch could name a successor outside of the direct family line if they so desired, which was necessary when it was revealed I was not their natural child.”

“That’s very interesting, your Majesty,” Rey interrupted, “but what makes you think -”

Leia halted her with another gesture as she walked to the painting beside the first, still of the couple, but now with a young woman draped in white beside them. A young Leia, beautiful and defiant. Rey huffed, unhappy at being ignored, but didn’t interrupt as Leia spoke again.

“They taught me the responsibilities I would bear as ruler, and I sought to instill the same lessons in my son. But I went about it the wrong way.”

Another painting, this one a wedding portrait of Leia and a handsome man with a crooked smile and sandy-brown hair. Han Solo. As Leia spoke, Rey began to suspect that Leia was not ignoring her question, but merely postponing her answer. Rey looked more closely at the portraits they passed.

“I thought that by dedicating my life to my duty, Ben would see how important it was, and wish to continue such dedication when it came to be his time. But it was not teaching, not really. It was neglect, and by the time he reached adolescence, I hardly knew him. He had not learned the lessons I wished him to.”

The next painting was of Leia and Han, with a boy of about eight, his hair dark and curling around slightly big ears, his lips stretched into a toothless smile. There was something about the shape of his features, his long nose and unruly hair, that sparked a sense of deja vu within Rey. Now she was sure Leia had some purpose in sharing this sorrowful tale with her, and, drawn to the next painting, she left Leia behind, still with an ear bent toward her.

“He listened to the wrong teacher and chose another path, turning away from us. It was easiest to allow everybody to assume he was dead, rather than make known what he had become. Perhaps this was cowardly of me. But I thought concealing the truth would make it easier for him to return, so that he would not be despised by everyone else.”

The painting was cast in shadow, and Rey had to take a candle from a nearby table to see it more clearly. Leia did not stop her.

“I’ve always wished for him to come back, but I must admit that until this afternoon, my hope for it was all but gone. But what Chewie has told me of your escape, what you have done, Rey, has restored hope to my soul that Ben isn’t lost forever. And I will see him again.”

Rey held up the candle, and gasped. The prince she saw in the painting was no longer a boy, but a youth on the verge of manhood, standing tall above his mother, thin and gangly. And his face! It was the same one she had hoped to sear into her memory as he set her on his horse only days before. She had been so afraid she would forget it; little had she known that she would find him here. She turned back to Leia in mute wonder. Leia regarded her closely, and spoke slyly.

“So you  _ have _ seen him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was around writing this chapter that I realized this fun, silly-ish AU of mine was growing into a larger beast than I initially intended. The whole point was just to plop these characters into a fantasy medieval world and whip out a few chapters and be done. Haha, nope! The number of chapters I've written so far are still a good number ahead of what I've posted, and I still have no idea what my final chapter count will be (though I do have an end in sight), plus the fact that my word count for each chapter just keeps on expanding! It's crazy. And it's more serious than I first thought, too.
> 
> However, there are still hints of the silliness that I first considered it, like when it comes to the names I've given certain characters that can't exactly go by their Star Wars monikers in a medieval world, such as Mr. Chief Steward Pellam Odard here (still cracks me up). Did you figure out who he is?
> 
> And how much more can I drag out this "Rey is shocked by a new discovery" business? ;) This was definitely her most important one so far.
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting!


	8. The Queen's Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Organa-Solo family history is shared as Rey spends time navigating the Alderaanian court.

Rey wasn’t sure she could take many more of these shocks. Yes, there was still much to learn that she had been denied in Theed, but she hadn’t expected that every new piece of information was going to give her heart palpitations. That Kylo Ren, Captain of the Knights of Ren, was actually Ben Solo, Crown Prince of Alderaan, was the most tremendous blow of all.

She was so astounded by this information that she couldn’t even react when Leia concluded their conversation that night with a casual, “Oh, by the way, Chewie mentioned that you were curious about Luke Skywalker. He’s my brother. But that’s not a secret here.”

It was one of the strangest conversations of her life once Rey saw Kylo’s - no, Ben’s - face in that painting. The words themselves were not extraordinary, but the circumstances made them so. Leia hadn’t been particularly expansive on her history after the discovery, more interested in hearing Rey’s account of her escape and the part her son had played. Rey slowly recovered from her awe as she recounted her experiences, while Leia pushed her to remember the exact words Kylo - no,  _ Ben _ \- had said. With every word Rey offered, Leia’s face lightened, a fierce pride glowing in her eyes. 

The blatant show of emotion was more than Rey could withstand. She had hoped to learn from the queen and be allowed some proper acquaintance with her, but she hadn’t ever dreamed she would be admitted into such close confidence. The connections she had imagined had never approached this level of intimacy, especially so quickly after being introduced. It was overwhelming to think that the woman she had revered from a distance was now gripping her hand as though she was her dearest friend.

“And he said that, that you would find the help you needed here?” Leia reiterated, desperate for confirmation.

“Yes,” Rey replied. “It was his plan all along for me to come here. To you . . .” she trailed off in wonder and discomposure, for Leia’s eyes, so intense and earnest, were now shining with unshed tears. Rey averted her gaze, uncomfortable at the sight.

Leia chuckled a little at her discomfort, and brushed away the tears that fell with a quick hand. “You’ll have to forgive me, Rey. We don’t know each other at all. But I hope you will understand. I’ve despaired so much of my son ever coming back to me, of ever remembering who he really is, that to know that he’s done this . . . it’s the best thing to happen since that horrible day I last saw him.”

Rey looked back at her, pressing her lips together doubtfully. “I’m sorry, but why? He sent me on alone. Shouldn’t he have come, too, if he’s turned against Snoke? Why would he stay away from you? You’re his mother!” She was so perplexed at his behavior, she didn’t even care if she offended Leia. But it made her so confused, even angry, that he would stay away from a family who loved him when she had grown up with no family at all.

Leia gripped Rey’s hand again to quell her rising voice. “It’s a long story, Rey, and I promise I will tell you what I know. But until then, don’t judge Ben too harshly. As I said, I was neglectful and blind to what was happening to him, and he has other reasons for thinking he would not be welcome.

“But this is why your being here gives me hope,” she continued, her smile radiant and serene. “If he sent you here, it means he knew you would be safe with me. You, with your lineage and history, should be an enemy to Alderaan. But you’re not, and he knew I would recognize that. That I would welcome you, no matter what your past is. And if I will do that for you, maybe some day he’ll believe that I will do that for him. And then he’ll come home.”

* * *

Bacca didn’t stay very long in Aldera, though he promised Rey he would return and bring Maz with him for the Harvest Ball that would be held in a month. But his departure meant that Rey was left to fend for herself in the royal quarter with very little guidance after only a couple of days. Unsurprisingly, she was often in Leia’s company, in private discussions on how to handle Rey’s plight, as well as observing council meetings, public petitions, and general court business, to have a first-hand look at a different form of government. This was what she had hoped for and expected by coming to Aldera. But what she hadn’t been prepared for was how much she would see the other members of the court, which was when she wished Bacca had stayed.

She learned very quickly that she was ill-prepared to spend time in society. The first few days after crossing into Alderaan, she thought she handled herself very well with all the strangers she met. And conversation had been relatively easy, thanks to the necessity of urgent communication and exchange of vital information. But when it came to ordinary interactions, Rey was woefully out of her depth. Her life in Jakku had been solitary, and she learned to keep others at arm’s length, lest they prove themselves an enemy and abscond with the few valuables she had. Theed had been an entirely new environment, and yet. she had been just as isolated. Her friendship with Finn was an anomaly in a life of deliberate and forced separation.

The Alderaanian court was a different animal altogether. There were a vast number of courtiers, all with varying degrees of interest in the actual running of government, but all perfectly at home in the royal quarter. And perfectly at home with subjecting Rey to all kinds of scrutiny, whether positive or suspicious. Socializing was certainly not something she had anticipated, yet here it was practically a requirement for her. In hindsight, she realized she should have expected the curiosity, but it was at the first party she attended that it was clear these strangers assumed she would answer every question they had. 

Inquiries were lobbed at her from all sides, and she was quickly overwhelmed at the attention, humiliated at the feeling of being an exhibit in a menagerie and desperate to hold her ground. Her own past inclinations and Leia’s words had made her wary of the courtiers she was presented to. While most were outwardly cordial, Rey couldn’t help wondering which of them doubted her motives, who was simply searching for gossip fodder, and who among them had a sincere interest in knowing her.

Thank goodness for Poe Dameron, who was her rescuer that first evening from the impertinent questions. Before Rey could raise a fist in indignation at anyone, he smoothly cut in to the crowd surrounding her, and with a few well-chosen words, he whisked her away to a more sedate corner of Lady Holdo’s parlor. Rey was pleased to see that nobody followed them, and the crowd dispersed and spread more naturally.

“Thank you,” she whispered tensely as they walked away. “I don’t know what might have happened if you hadn’t come.”

He smiled humorously. “Yes, I thought maybe it was time for a rescue. I’m glad to have saved some of my friends from your wrath.”

Rey pulled up at the turn-around of who he thought was in need of rescue, then laughed at his astute assessment. “I suppose it wouldn’t do to make an enemy of you by bashing your friends’ faces in.”

He emitted a chuckle, as well. “Some of them are vipers, but I hope you will forgive most of them for their forwardness. You’re quite the novelty, and not everybody is as restrained as Leia in company. You might have to deal with those who are more curious than they are polite.”

Rey’s nostrils flared a little at the warning, annoyed that this wouldn’t be the last of it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Poe was right. As the days passed and she was continually pressed to join in social engagements, there were a few members of the court who persistently refused to leave her be, at least until someone more kind, usually Poe, was able to push them back. Rey would have probably grown immune and even amused by their behavior had it not been for the impression that their inquiries into her past, particularly as regarded her impoverished life in Jakku, were insincere and even malicious. She was glad to answer questions from those she gleaned to have a true interest in her, but the false attentions were repugnant.

More time gave her the benefit of learning and studying individual characters, and she eventually felt that there were some she could consider, if not friends, at least friendly acquaintances. There was potential. But overall, she couldn’t decide if she enjoyed the social life of court or not. And she was afraid to ask the friends she was making if they ever felt the same way.

At least Poe was one she felt more at ease with, despite her initial surprise at his rank and future status. He was a charming man with the ability to soothe and rally, and Rey could understand why Leia had chosen him as her successor. His was a personality that others flocked to, which made him a prime candidate for leadership. If he had been a simpleton or cruel man, this advantage of his could have been disastrous. But to all appearances, he was a thoroughly decent man with an earnest desire to do well by his people, by Leia, and even by Rey.

She saw evidence of this during her discussions with Leia of how to proceed in her plans, since Leia insisted on including him. For the most part, Leia led these talks, but occasionally he would venture an opinion.

“Do you really think it’s worth sending an envoy to Hosnia?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair as they sat at the table in the council room. “They might have the motivation and will to march against Snoke, but I can’t imagine they’d be willing to go up against him again so soon.”

Leia’s lips pursed. “It’s been five years since that business, and no matter what anybody’s answer is, we can’t afford to neglect anybody in Rey’s plea. Our council may have finally pledged its support, but our army alone is not enough. Beaumont is already angry enough that we gave it without provision, and he is chipping away at the others to change their minds so that we only give aid if others pledge to do the same. If he is successful, we will need anybody and everybody we can.”

“Is there anybody that you think will say yes?” Rey asked nervously, though there was the private comfort that Leia would speak of the fight to come in inclusive terms. It helped her feel a little less alone.

Leia rubbed her eyes with a sigh. “I know that Endor is tired of the exorbitant levies on goods that cross the border; they are too far from anybody else who has the resources they need to trade for, and they hate that Snoke has taken advantage of it. And because they are one of your bordering nations, they have a closer view into the atrocities that have been piling up of late. They are also the most vulnerable to assault if Snoke ever does attempt to restore the Empire, as we have suspected he would ever since his attack on Hosnia. They likely will join, but their numbers are fairly small. As are Hosnia’s. I think we can depend on Bespin - Lando will be game for a fight - but he is just one governor, and they will need a majority to vote in your favor.”

“If we’re talking about those ready for a fight, Hoth will take any excuse,” Poe joked.

Leia managed a small smile at Poe’s attempt at levity. “They do like a good fight; it’s the barbarian blood in them. But don’t take that as a given. Getting over the Gallo mountains is a chore; it’s a wonder that Hoth was ever a part of the Empire to begin with. Their way of life was altered very little from one change of power to another, and they may be simply uninterested.”

“But they border Naboo, as well,” Rey argued feebly.

“You haven’t been to your northern borders. The mountains that lie between Naboo and Hoth are treacherous. They may decide it’s not worth the effort. As to the rest . . .” Leia motioned to the map in front of her, “it’s too hard to predict. And besides, even with the fastest messengers, it will still be some time before you hear an answer from any of them. Not all the Realms will come to a quick decision, as we did.”

And Rey had felt those three days were interminable as she awaited a response. “Maybe having one tyrannical ruler is an easier form of government; it would make the decision-making process much faster, at least,” she mused glumly.

Poe laughed outright at that, and Leia smiled indulgently. “You’re not wrong. It would make it faster. But not necessarily better.” Her smile faded, eyes glazing over. She would have these moments, Rey was learning, when she would slip into her memories. Rey wondered what she was remembering. But Leia never indulged in these moments for long, and this time was no different. With an audible intake of breath, she shook herself back into alertness, and told Poe he could go.

Poe was taken aback at the abrupt dismissal, but he didn’t argue. Once the door closed behind him, Leia let out a heavy sigh. Rey watched her sympathetically. As they spent this time closeted together, Rey was beginning to have a greater understanding of the toll it took on one to rule a country. Yet Leia rarely betrayed exhaustion. How did she manage it? Everything on her shoulders, as well as her private, lonely grief? Rey felt the weight of the privilege she was given to see Leia in such vulnerable moments. And it increased her admiration of the queen’s grit.

Leia’s sigh became a small chuckle. “You’ve been frustrated.”

Rey’s eyes widened, but she said nothing to confirm Leia’s statement.

“You have,” Leia said more confidently. “You didn’t know all the maneuvering and chaos that goes into running a government, and it’s maddening, isn’t it?”

Rey bit her lip as she nodded and looked at the floor. “I guess I was naive, wasn’t I?”

“No,” Leia assured her, “not naive. You can grow up with it and still be frustrated with the time it can take to make one simple decision, even if it’s something as small as which vendor to choose for providing poultry for the Harvest Ball.

“Ben had the same frustrations.”

Rey lifted her eyes. Leia hadn’t spoken of her son since that night in the gallery, and Rey had spent much of her spare time wondering if she ever would. The other portion of Rey’s solitary reflections was dedicated to adjusting her mind so she would refer to him as Ben rather than Kylo, if the opportunity was presented to speak of him. It was a challenge at first -- two years’ habit was hard to break. But there was no question that she preferred his birth name to the strange one he had taken on, so she devoted a good deal of time to the task.

“He was so clever,” Leia recalled, her gaze growing far away again. “From the time he was small, he was. More than was good for him, probably. He could argue his way out of any punishment; he was always finding exceptions to the rules. I would have been more angry if I hadn’t been so impressed. Han would laugh and praise him to the hills, telling him he was sure to be a great leader. Ben lived for that praise. He was desperate for it.

“His arguments became more contentious as he got older. Because he was so clever, he always knew what was best. A problem would present itself and he knew precisely how to solve it. But because of the way our court works, there were more minds that had to come at it, discuss it, research it, and he deplored the slowness of the whole process, especially when the conclusions and decisions were exactly what he originally proposed. It was a laborious system that grated on his nerves. Like you,” Leia nodded to Rey.

“He was also disgusted at the corruption he saw within the council ranks. Like it or not, even in the best governments, there will be those who are out for their own gain, and it’s no different here. And Ben despised that they had a say. He felt very deeply, about everything. Nothing by halves. When he was happy, his face would light up like the sun. When he was angry, you would think that he could produce thunder and lightning from his fingertips. We didn’t know what to do with him when he would get in those moods. And we left him to work out his anger alone. There was always something else that needed to be attended to. Eventually he simply stopped expressing himself, whether on public matters or private.”

Leia closed her eyes slowly, and Rey could sense her shame. She wished she could say something to comfort her.

“I sent him to Luke, to have some distance from the people he was so frustrated by. I hoped the separation would give him some perspective on how things work here, that the process, though flawed, was the best we could do. Luke had turned away from it all, but he still respected it, and his ways were always more gentle than mine. I thought he could have a calming effect. And maybe he would have if Snoke hadn’t already gotten his claws into Ben. It was after he vanished from Luke’s home that we found out they had been corresponding, and Snoke’s ideas had taken hold of him.

“Within months of Ben’s disappearance, we heard of a new captain under Snoke’s command, doing his will and leading a new band of knights. It was a blessing and a surprise that barely anyone made the connection; Ben had few friends here, but no one had realized how far gone he was. Han and I suspected, but we would hardly speak of those suspicions even to each other, just in case someone was listening. And it made it all so real if we admitted that this new captain was our Ben.”

“You couldn’t do anything?” Rey asked.

“What was there to do?” Leia shrugged sorrowfully. “Han, I know, wanted to ride off and drag Ben back, but forcing him would never have worked. He would have grown to hate us. We couldn’t be tyrants to our own son; we’d already failed him enough. We just had to hope that he would come to his senses and come home. He had to see what Snoke was. And he might have eventually done just what we hoped.”

Leia’s eyes winced in pain, and she shook her head. “But then Snoke invaded Hosnia. We had expected an assault on Endor to be his opening strategy if he ever dared outright war with any of the Realms, but instead he chose Hosnia. They were barely able to defend themselves until we could assist them. And Snoke knew we would come.”

Now Leia’s face hardened. “We couldn’t understand why he would go there first. But when we came and joined the battle, it became clear. In the midst of the fighting, we could see him - Ben - on his great black horse, so strong and terrible.

“We had a plan, but Han . . . well, he saw Ben and broke ranks. He didn’t care about orders or strategy, he just wanted to get to Ben. Chewie and I followed him, so terrified of what might happen. It was chaos. So many fighting, so many dead, and Han was still charging for our son, sure that he could convince him to come home. He almost made it. Ben could see him. He got off his horse, and even began to go toward him. For a moment, I thought it was possible to mend everything that had gone wrong.

“But before they could reach each other, another soldier got in Han’s way. Not a knight of Ren, not a close companion of Snoke, just a regular soldier in the heat of battle. Han was distracted; he didn’t know what was coming until it happened, and then he was down, bleeding, and still reaching for Ben.”

Rey’s lips parted in horror. How could Leia live through this, much less recount it to her?

“Chewie and I were still too far away, but I couldn’t keep him back if I tried, and we kept on trying to get closer. Ben reached the soldier first. Ran him through with one stroke. No one else would know that someone from his own side killed him. And I watched him, my son, take off his helmet and kneel beside my husband. I’ll never forget his face as Han touched his cheek. It was torture, to see that anguish and be unable to take it away. I’ve still never felt . . .” she trailed off, the pain reducing her voice to nothing. Rey moved quickly to sit beside her, placing a hand at Leia’s back.

“I knew the instant Han was gone,” Leia murmured, her voice raspy with emotion. “I felt it split my soul. And then Ben looked up and saw us, Chewie and me. The agony in his face was still there, and something else, too. Revulsion. Hatred. But not for us. For himself. He blamed himself as though he had been the one to strike Han down. And I knew that nothing I would say, even if I did get close enough to speak to him, would keep him from believing that. He would never feel like he could come home after that.

“That was all Snoke wanted in Hosnia. To gain Ben’s loyalty and manipulate events so that he would believe he had nowhere else to go. He bought Ben’s service with blood. Of course he couldn’t know that Han would die, but he knew that once Ben saw us in battle, on opposite sides, there would be no going back. No matter how he would hate Snoke, he would hate himself more and believe that we could never forgive him. That was what would ensure his loyalty. He put on the helmet and never removed it. That was the last time I ever saw my son’s face.”

Silence rang through the room, and Rey felt helpless under the weight of sorrow and remorse that bent Leia’s head as she finished her story. All she could do was take Leia’s hand in hers. They sat there quietly together for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As someone who mostly views the sequels positively while still acknowledging the pitfalls, I'm personally still conflicted by Ben Solo's death in Rise of Skywalker. Adam Driver's performance was the best part of the trilogy for me, and part of me is bummed that he died and that the "redemption equals death" trope reigned supreme. (And I'll also admit that I would be a little more okay with his death if the movie hadn't promptly forgotten him the instant he vanished. My opinion? They needed a scene like Vader's funeral pyre in Return of the Jedi, to acknowledge his turn and remind us that he had a significant impact on this trilogy's hero.) But I was also not terribly surprised, considering Star Wars in general. I wasn't devastated or angry, like many people were. It made sense, because really, even in a Star Wars universe, how could he have possibly had a life considering everything he had done as Kylo Ren? Of course, this is why fanfiction exists, so we can explore the possibilities.
> 
> But I'd say my biggest hang-up with keeping Ben Solo alive is the fact that he killed Han. Yes, manipulation and the dark side and all that went into it, and we got that lovely scene of them reconciling and knowing that Han forgave him, but the fact of the matter is that he killed his dad. Yikes. But again, that's why it's nice to have fanfiction, so we can change circumstances around (yay!). So Ben still feels responsible for Han's death here, but didn't actually run his dad through. For me, that just makes it a little easier for him to have redemption. And let's face it, I want Ben Solo redeemed.


	9. The Question of Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A frivolous situation leads to some serious introspection. Also, Rey goes to a ball, y'all!

If there was one thing about the Alderaanian court that baffled Rey above everything, it was the flirting.

Never mind the fact that her reason for being there was dreadfully serious, and every moment she was waiting for word from the Realms. Not to mention being constantly on her guard in case some “ambassador” from Naboo came charging in to take her back under duress. Leia had promised her protection, and while she did not doubt the queen’s sincerity, an undercurrent of apprehension lay in Rey’s mind.

But even if she pushed this all aside, she would have been confounded. The flirting!

She had observed some of the inner workings of court society when it came to romantic relationships, but one afternoon a couple of weeks into her stay, it intruded on her notice far more personally than she had ever expected. She had been walking the grounds with Poe, her arm in his, when they came across another group of lords and ladies. There was no mistaking the tittering and whispers, the knowing smiles and winking eyes. In one instant, the scales dropped from her eyes, and she was put on her guard. Up until now, Poe’s attention had been welcome and helpful, and she had found no fault in his treatment of her. But feeling the sharp eyes of scrutiny on the pair of them, his overtures of friendship were cast in a new light entirely. And she pulled out of his grip.

Poe didn’t comment or even seem to mind her action, and joined the group with a charming smile. Rey found it difficult to speak, even when the kindly Kaydel Connix came to keep her company. She was one of the few that Rey was beginning to feel more comfortable around, but even her serene smile wasn’t quite enough to settle the sudden disquiet that Rey felt.

She watched Poe closely, studying his every move. Did he treat her differently than the others? Was there any substance to the stares she had just begun to notice? He chatted easily with everyone, and even exchanged winks of his own with a couple of the bolder ladies, giving gallant compliments and flourishing bows. Rey couldn’t help thinking of the kiss he had bestowed on her hand so readily at their first meeting.

Kaydel didn’t miss the way Rey chewed on her lower lip, and touched the top of her hand gently. “Are you well, your Highness?”

Rey looked up sharply, but on seeing the sincere concern in Kaydel’s eyes, she emitted a small sigh and released her lip. “Yes, I am. You don’t need to worry for me.”

Kaydel followed Rey’s eyes, however, and observed, “You seem troubled. Is it . . . pardon me, is it more difficulties with your mission?” She asked the question as though she knew the answer would be a negative.

Still, Rey answered her all the same. “No, it’s not that. It’s just . . .” She spared another glance Poe’s way, who had taken Lady Moradi’s arm in his as he spoke. “I’m afraid I’ve been misinterpreting something.”

Kaydel looked pensive. “Lord Dameron, do you mean?” At Rey’s look, she smiled gently. “It is not so extraordinary that you could become attached to him. He is a charming and handsome gentleman, and you have spent a great deal of time with him.”

“But I’m not attached to him,” Rey asserted swiftly. Kaydel’s brow lifted in surprise, though not skepticism. “I’m not. He’s been very friendly, but I haven’t considered him that way at all.”

Kaydel looked back and forth between Rey and the crowd again. “Oh, well, that is . . . I assumed that you might feel something for him. Forgive my impertinence.”

“No, no,” Rey shook her head hastily. “There’s nothing to forgive. I have spent more time with him than anyone. It would be a natural assumption for anybody raised to all this. But I wasn’t raised to it. I hadn’t considered the possibility myself until just now.”

Kaydel’s mouth formed a silent “oh”, her head tipped back in understanding. “So you are afraid that Lord Dameron is growing attached to  _ you _ ?”

“Is he?” Rey whispered, a little panicked. “I don’t know anything about . . .” she grasped for the right word.

“Courting,” Kaydel finished for her.

“Yes,” she said, exasperated. “And I don’t want him to . . . court me. But has he been? He’s obviously flirting right now. Has he been flirting with me? I don’t know.”

She searched Kaydel’s face, hoping for some illumination on a subject that she was completely ignorant on. Kaydel, to her credit, took her time to answer and guided Rey away from the rest of the group lest they be overheard.

“Lord Dameron,” Kaydel began very carefully, “is an accomplished flirt. He likes women, and they like him in return. Although I wouldn’t call him a rake by any means. He can flirt prodigiously, but only with those whose expectations aren’t raised by it and flirt back just as much. One can only guess what he will be like when he does choose to court a woman seriously.”

Rey glanced again at him. “I wouldn’t say he’s been flirting prodigiously with me. Does that mean he is treating me more seriously than a casual flirt?”

“That his intentions with you are tending toward genuine courtship?” Kaydel clarified. Rey nodded. “I don’t know. I’m not inclined to think so, because I don’t think he would have such intentions without making himself clear to you first. He’s an honorable man, and he wouldn’t court anyone without their knowledge.”

Rey pressed her lips together in trepidation. “What do others think?” She didn’t know if she would soon forget those whisperings and smiles she had just witnessed.

Kaydel was now uncomfortable. “There is gossip, I must admit, but nothing very significant. I think most of the court understands why you and Poe are often together and give no credence to more serious speculation. Only those who feel a little deprived of Poe’s company are the ones to make comment.” Rey was silent, and Kaydel took this opportunity to make a suggestion. “I know you have more important things to be thinking about, your Highness, but it might do you some good while you’re here to observe the relations between men and women.”

When Rey’s eyes widened in horror, Kaydel swiftly went on. “Relations in public, I mean. Not . . . oh, my, not . . .” she flushed a deep red, her own embarrassment making Rey a little more at ease. So Kaydel hadn’t meant  _ those _ kinds of relations. “Courtship, flirting, and those kinds of things,” Kaydel continued when she found her voice again. “So that you may better judge when a man’s attentions mean something more, or to better gauge the dynamics in a group. It’s tedious, perhaps, but it might give you some insight into the interactions you see. And are part of.”

It was a valid suggestion, and Rey took it to heart. As she had in the Naboo court, she allowed herself space to observe the relationships of those she watched. And she distanced herself from Poe, just in case he had set his heart on her.

As Rey took up Kaydel’s suggestion and attended various society functions, she did gain insight as Kaydel had promised she would, and she was grateful for it. It helped her know who to steer clear of and who to tread lightly with, lest she stir up jealousy in others. It gave her further knowledge of who was trustworthy and who was out for a good story. But an unintended side-effect of this knowledge was the subsequent self-examination of her understanding of courtship and love.

Rey had very little exposure to romance; she knew that perfectly well. Before the revelation of Snoke’s intentions, she had regarded the marriage proposals sent her way almost as though they were a joke. And in those awkward times that she had put a stop to unwelcome propositions, it was not only because such boldness was an affront to her dignity. She had truly had no inclination to return the intimacies offered. Such desires were alien to her.

She knew that passions and wants existed; before being sheltered away in her palace in Theed, she had been more than aware of them in Jakku. A poor life, surrounded by others equally poor and just as without privacy or courtly decency, had exposed her very frankly to the “desires of the flesh”, as Hux had once put it.

Sometimes she still shuddered at the memory of the pleasure houses that were so ubiquitous that they could be found in every village she wandered into in her youth. Remembering the hopelessness in the faces of the poor souls who worked there made her cringe even now. As she grew up and understood more of what went on in such places, she had difficulty believing that the carnal act was at all decent or right, if it made slaves of otherwise innocent souls.

There had also been the unforgettable time when she had tripped over a hidden dune in the sand, and fell onto her belly outside a small cave jutting out from underneath it. When she pulled her face out of the sand, she saw a man and woman, the woman pushed up against the cave wall, her legs wrapped around the man’s waist, her skirts hiked up to her hips. Rey had been mortified at the sounds they made that echoed in her ears long after she’d made her quiet escape. The only gratitude she felt was that in their exertion they had not noticed her presence.  _ Was this romance? _ she had wondered to herself at the time. Neither seemed to be forcing themself on the other, which was some improvement from the brothels, but it still didn’t appear to be romance more than an act of lust and release.

And, though she took Hux’s spiritual teachings with a grain of salt, his disdain for the weakness and sinfulness of mankind in succumbing to such desires did not precisely clash with her own views regarding the subject. But she had never given up entirely the suspicion that perhaps she was wrong, and that perhaps in a new place she might gain a different perspective.

As she spent more time in Aldera, she quickly decided that the idea of romance was not much better displayed in the insipid dalliances of the court. She observed secretive smiles and private jokes, delicate touches of the wrist and whispered flattery. Bright eyes and heightened cognizance of one’s object. The compliments and courtly gallantry were as subtle as the man and woman in Jakku had been overt. It was difficult to see how one led to the other. Because it must, mustn’t it? These demonstrations of attraction had to be a prelude to eventually falling into one or the other’s bed. And still she couldn’t see how such frivolous demonstrations were actually romantic.

Much more to her taste were the precious glimpses she was given into the manners of those couples who were already attached to each other, be they married, betrothed, or in a committed courtship. These couples also gave way to the same kinds of flirtations she saw in the crowd, but their actions were purified by a sincere affection for one another. Their secret smiles were filled with devotion, their touches meant to comfort and connect -- not merely attract. This was a better depiction of romance to her mind, and while she earnestly hoped never to be in such a position, she didn’t think that to catch these people in a less-than-proper embrace would give her the same horror as her previous experience had.

But what of her? She was so ignorant of love and the pursuit of it. Did one have to go through the frivolity to reach the sincerity she admired so much? And what did it mean that Rey wasn’t interested in rousing the attention and desire of the men of the court? She was not above finding men pleasing to look at in general. She recognized that Finn, with his dark skin and wide smile, was a handsome man. And Poe was, as well, with a roguish grin and playful eyes. But she didn’t want to pursue either of them in a romantic way. Why not? Why did the pleasures of flirtation elude her?

This question hung over her with no ready answer. And, as grateful as she was to Kaydel for her astute suggestion, she wasn’t ready to openly discuss her introspections. She was afraid that the recollection of piercing eyes would slip out and she would be forced to confront an uncomfortable truth about the owner of said eyes. She couldn’t even find the courage to admit to his mother that she visited the gallery every night, chanting his true name under her breath.

* * *

“Oh, my, child, you are a vision,” Maz declared when Rey appeared in the doorway. The petite duchess hopped off her chair, giving no heed to her own skirts, to get a closer look at Rey’s gown.

Rey had to force back a blush, but she was pleased at the compliment. Her scar on her cheek had faded now, and Leia’s maid had worked some kind of magic to dress her hair, so she believed she at least looked presentable. Her chestnut highlights glowed in the lamplight, her usual braid being discarded in favor of wearing her hair loose and curled into waves that hung gracefully down her back. The dress, specially commissioned by Leia, was a deep blue that shimmered and darkened as the folds of the skirt moved. The dipping neckline was a little more daring than Rey would have liked, but she knew it was still exceptionally modest when compared to the other gowns likely to make a showing this evening. The elegant line of her gown was both slimming and revealing; Rey hadn’t known that she had a woman-like figure. Her dresses in Theed, though beautiful, had not been nearly as flattering as this one was. She felt she almost looked pretty in it.

Finn strode up beside Maz as she was scrutinized. He had come with Maz and Bacca when they arrived in Aldera two days before, and Rey was nothing short of elated to see him, not only upright but fully recovered. Leia had given him a gracious welcome, and he and Poe had taken to each other like ducks to water. He was staying with Bacca and Maz in their temporary residence, but Rey and he had spent a good deal of their waking hours with each other, filling the other in on the past few weeks.

He gave her a beaming smile. “You do look beautiful, Rey. You’ll knock ‘em all down flat.” Rey grinned. Some of Bacca’s bluntness had rubbed off on Finn, and it was a welcome change after that month of uncertainty and whispers, never daring to speak up for fear of discovery.

“Thank you. And you look dashing yourself.” This wasn’t a lie. The dark green jacket and white breeches looked very becoming on her friend, who gave her a joking grin in return.

“Well, that’s good you think so. I can’t believe you all roped me into going to this thing, throwing me to the wolves.”

Maz snorted. “Nonsense. Rey’s right. You’re a good-looking lad, and with the tales Rey’s likely told of you, you’re going in there with a hero’s reputation. No need to be scared of those fancy ladies with their scarves and fans.”

“Just barbed wits to worry about,” Bacca joined in. “Besides, they’d have more to say if you didn’t go. The Harvest Ball is a tradition. Can’t have people saying you’re throwing away the queen’s hospitality at such an event.”

“So long as nobody expects me to dance, I won’t complain,” Finn replied as Bacca clapped a massive hand on his back.

Rey forced a smile at his comment. She was no more knowledgeable on the subject of dancing than he was, as she had turned down Poe’s offer to teach her. All part of her plan to keep him from being sweet on her, if there was danger of that. She still wasn’t sure.

It was a short walk to the ballroom in the state house, and as they entered the building, Rey could hear strains of music wafting through the air. By all accounts, this was a grand affair, and she had been nervous about attending. But the lilting, happy music that grew louder with each passing step lifted her spirits, and her nerves were completely dissipated when Bacca, with an exaggerated flourish that made her laugh, offered Rey his arm to escort her in. She couldn’t be afraid with the giant by her side.

The doors of the ballroom were wide open, and they entered with little fanfare, the crowd of people already gathered too busy to pay much attention. Delightful smells issued from side tables, and Rey was sure no less than thousands of candles had been lit, brightening the room and throwing into sharp focus the ancient tapestries on the walls. Leia stood in her proper place at the head of the room, where two grand chairs could overlook the proceedings. Rey made her curtsies to Leia, who was quick to greet them all and then quietly pointed out two visiting dignitaries that Rey would be interested in speaking to. This event would not be simply for pleasure, but a chance for Rey to plead her case more directly to the ambassadors from Corellia and Tatooine, which might do some good in hurrying along an answer from their respective governments.

It wasn’t too much longer before Leia formally opened the ball with a speech regarding Alderaan’s history and the gratitude they owed to the labor of their subjects, who made such a celebration possible. Rey noticed attendants who nodded their heads sincerely at Leia’s words, others who looked as though they were tapping their toes in impatience for the music to begin again, and others who appeared simply bored. It never failed to amaze her the variety there was to be found even in the most homogenous group, though she wished that more would give heed to the importance of Leia’s message. It rankled her to see how few seemed to care.

Perhaps this annoyance contributed to her impatience later after the dances had been in full swing, when she found herself grouped with Leia, Poe, Bacca, and the Corellian ambassador. Maz had taken Finn in hand and was introducing him to other members of the court. The ambassador was complimenting Leia on a spectacular ball, which was innocuous enough, but he soon revealed that he took issue with her emphasis on the common man.

“Surely you don’t believe that it is only due to them that your nation is so richly blessed,” he declared, and Rey felt her hackles beginning to rise in response to his pompous tone.

Leia lifted an eyebrow, but otherwise revealed nothing. “I do not think it wise to discount the work of people who do so much for our collective benefit. Do you not agree?”

“True, but to speak as though they are solely responsible -”

“Have you ever used a scythe, Dryden?” Bacca interrupted. “Butchered an animal? Watched over your crops from month to month and prayed that the weather would be kind in allowing for an adequate harvest?”

Rey held back a satisfied smile. She hoped that Bacca’s point would shut up the ambassador’s pretensions, but sadly it did nothing to deter him.

“Certainly not!” he exclaimed. “I think I am respectful enough of my dignity and the sphere into which I was born to not dirty my hands in such a way. It is not my responsibility to interfere in the lives of the common man, no more than it is their right to interfere in mine.”

Rey felt her blood boiling. Did there really exist people like this outside of Snoke’s court? Was this why men like him rose to power?

Leia spoke up again, her voice trying to soothe. “We all have our duties to perform for the good of our nations, Ambassador. You are right that you have been educated for a different purpose than a merchant or a farmer. But their lives are no less important than yours or mine. Sometimes I imagine their lives to be more important, for all the reliance we place in them.”

“Your Majesty,” he needled, “I grant that they do their part in working the wheels of civilization, but yours is an elevated role. You are meant to rule.”

“And they are meant to  _ be _ ruled, I suppose,” Rey snapped, no longer able to contain herself. “Heaven forbid that anyone believe they have minds and intellects of their own. Oh, no. They are only work horses, bred to provide for your comfort.”

Bacca snorted, but Leia’s eyes flashed in warning as Vos spluttered indignantly at Rey’s outburst. Rey couldn’t bring herself to apologize, though she was immediately regretful for Leia’s sake. It was probably for the best when she felt Poe’s hand at her elbow, guiding her away before the ambassador could rebut.

At first Rey was afraid that he was leading her to dance, but instead he steered her to the veranda that opened up to the gardens. Night had fallen, and a sharp autumnal chill seeped into her skin that did nothing to cool the tempest in her breast. She folded her arms angrily, sure that Poe was going to give her a preview of the scolding she would expect from Leia later.

“That was certainly not a diplomatic response,” he began, confirming her expectations, though his voice was laced with humor.

Rey was not in a joking mood, however. “Are they all like that?” she hissed in anger and dismay.

Poe took in a long, audible breath. “Some. Not all. He certainly is.”

“How can Leia stand to speak with him?”

Poe grimaced slightly. “For all his faults, and he does have many, Sir Vos is a clever man. He has been a valuable addition to the court, doing his part to strengthen the ties between Alderaan and Corellia.”

“But he’s so . . .” Rey trailed off, unable to find the perfect descriptor of the smarmy gentleman.

“Yes, he is,” Poe agreed. “The unfortunate thing about the world is that very few people are completely good or completely bad. Some are more good, and some are more bad, and then there are the ones that seem to straddle the line. And they are the most infuriating because you wish they’d simply pick a side. And Leia puts up with him because she must. If only we could always pick the best company to surround us at all times. But you know that such a dream isn’t possible when you’re chosen to lead.”

Rey huffed a little, but nodded in concession. At least he hadn’t scolded her for her outburst, which helped soothe her a little.

“This is one of the reasons why you will make a good queen,” Poe said, surprising her. He immediately explained the compliment. “Your life has given you experience that none of us here could hope to understand. You will be an advocate for your people because of your knowledge of their struggles.” His smile widened. “Sometimes I do wonder how we must appear in your eyes. I can only hope we don’t all come across like the great snobs that Sir Vos does.”

“You don’t,” she said immediately, facing him head-on. “I don’t think you’re at all like him. I could tell right away that you are a good man.”

A subtle quirk of his lips revealed his embarrassment at her blunt assessment, and he bowed his head in response. “Thank you. I appreciate your endorsement.” She stood there for a moment in silence, suddenly afraid that her compliment would be misconstrued. “Does this mean that you’re willing to speak to me again?” There was no mistaking the amusement in his voice now, and her eyes widened in horror.

Poe openly laughed as she turned away. “Did you think I hadn’t noticed, Rey? For a couple of weeks now you’ve avoided me in social settings, and I’m at a loss to know why.”

Rey shook her head. She shouldn’t have assumed that Poe’s lack of comment on her behavior meant that he had not noticed it at all. “I didn’t . . .” she began awkwardly, but then rushed through her next words to get them over with. “I didn’t want to encourage anything.”

For a moment she was afraid to look him in the face, but she couldn’t stand the suspense for long, and peeked over. What was her astonishment to see him holding back still more laughter! At last he said, “So you were afraid I had designs on you, is that it?”

Rey immediately felt foolish.

He stepped closer to her, his smile becoming a little more subdued. “Rey, you are a brave and, if I may say, a beautiful woman. One I admire a great deal. The man who gains your favor will be a fortunate man indeed. But I was never going to be that man.”

Rey felt relief, if a little confusion at his manner of expression. Poe chuckled. “I have responsibilities here that make it impossible to offer myself to the future queen of Naboo. Well, I hope I will not have the greatest responsibility placed on my shoulders for many years yet, but the point is, despite your attractions, I would not allow myself to dwell on them for long. That’s why we sent men like Taslin Brance and Snap to Naboo last year; they hadn’t any responsibilities to Alderaan the way I do.”

Now Rey understood. Even if Poe had been inclined to pursue her, he was a future sovereign, as was she. A match between them was not possible. Now she felt the wave of relief wash over her as she looked Poe in the eye. She didn’t have to be afraid to do so any more. He smiled a little more deeply, and took her hand in his.

“I do wish for your good opinion, Rey, but only as a friend.” She nodded, and he kissed her hand quickly. Now that she knew it meant nothing, she could allow the action more gladly. “Feel better?” he asked, releasing her.

She gave a low laugh. “Yes. Thank you.”

“What gave you the impression that I was seeking your favor, anyway?” he asked, cocking his head in curiosity.

“I . . . I don’t know. Well,” she stuttered, casting her mind back to that afternoon of whispers and giggles. “Society here at court is confusing to me, at best. I thought that people were talking about us -”

“Which they were,” he interjected.

“And I was afraid there was something to the gossip. I didn’t know what to do,” she admitted feebly.

Poe laid his hand on her arm in a comforting gesture, taking a step closer. “I know it can’t be easy for you,” he said gently. “I probably should have done more to help you, considering I’ve been raised to the workings of court society. We’ve been allowed the luxury of such behavior, but just because it’s not natural to you, it doesn’t mean there is something wrong with you. You’ve had a very different life from us, and if that means that you don’t flirt and dally, so be it. There are plenty of others who are more of a serious bent, who don’t appreciate the games we sometimes play.”

“Do you?” Rey asked him, peering up at him more closely.

Poe opened his mouth, then closed it. “I have enjoyed it. Still do, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. But I will admit that it sometimes grows tiresome. Not enough to entirely give it up,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye, “But enough to know it will not bring substantial happiness to me in the long run. And I have a duty to court and marry, just as you will, so my ways will change, in time for the next generation to come along and play the same games.”

He straightened to his full height, and offered his arm to Rey. “Now, do you think you can suffer through more pompous witticisms? I promise I will try and steal you away for a dance to keep you from punching Sir Vos.”

Rey smiled and took his arm, looking out at the moonlit-bathed gardens before turning. She paused for a moment, her brow furrowing. What was that fleeting shadow she saw near the outer wall? She could have sworn she had seen a dark silhouette disappear behind a tree, the edge of their cloak giving them away. She peered into the darkness as well as she could, but as quickly as the shadow had appeared, it was gone. Was it just some trick of the moonlight?

She looked back at Poe, who was regarding her curiously, but with a small smile and a shake of her head, she warded off any questions. He walked her in, and they made their way back to Leia, who thankfully was standing alone. Leia reached out a hand to Rey, who took it gratefully. A scolding she might receive, but it was a relief to know the queen was not overly angry with her.

Rey was not allowed the relief for long, though, as a strange hush came over the gathering, and before her eyes, the dancing couples cleared a path for an unexpected arrival. She started, and the crippling fear of Snoke’s possible reprisals came rushing back as the figure was revealed.

He took steady, arrogant strides toward them, his black robes whipping along with each step. His red hair was slicked back and more severe than she had ever remembered seeing it. He wore the ever-present sneer she had been forced to watch every day in Theed. The familiar feeling of loathing filled her stomach, and she tried not to betray how sickened she was at the sight of her former tutor.

Even the music came to a halt as Hux stopped a few feet away from her, his contemptuous expression dangerously focused on Leia.


	10. The Threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unwelcome visitors send Rey scrambling in various ways.

Hux’s lip curled ever so slightly. “My apologies, your Majesty, for intruding at such an inauspicious time. I pray you will forgive my unexpected arrival.”

The chill that had touched Rey’s arms on the veranda now seemed to pervade the entire ballroom as Leia coolly looked Hux up and down. “Your apology is noted, Father . . .”

“Hux, ma’am,” he inclined his head ever so slightly. “Archbishop of Theed.”

A ripple went through the crowd as he announced himself, and Rey felt everyone’s eyes darting from their queen back to Hux and then to her.

“You may have heard my name from your prisoner there, gilded prison though it may be for her,” Hux’s icy tone matched the cold stare Leia fixed on him. The old, familiar coils of anger began to tighten in Rey’s stomach.

“Prisoner?” Leia asked, serene and still. “I have no idea of who you may mean. There are no prisoners here.”

Rey’s anxiety shot up as Hux finally turned his gaze onto her. “Why, the Princess Rey, of course. Lord Protector Snoke has been extremely concerned ever since her disappearance from Theed, and when he learned that she was installed in your court, you can imagine his outrage. It is his intention to foster friendly relations between your countries, but that can never be if the future sovereign is abducted from her very rooms and taken forcibly away by your agents to be your puppet.”

Rey heard Bacca’s snort echo through the chamber above the gasps and protestations. “Abducted? What rot. And you call yourself a priest.”

Hux’s sneer faltered only a little, but he didn’t respond to Bacca’s derision.

Leia lifted her chin defiantly. “You claim that the princess was abducted.”

“Claim? Oh, no, it is a certainty,” Hux interrupted.

Leia went on as though he had said nothing. “I ask you where is your proof? You can have none to offer for such baseless accusations, and that being the case, I demand that you leave and return to your master. You will find no footing here.”

“ _ You _ demand?” Hux repeated angrily, his false diplomacy quickly forgotten. “After your deplorable commands have led to the capture and and detention of your hostage, you dare -”

“I am no hostage!” Rey exclaimed, unwilling to force Leia to contend with this worm. “I came here of my own accord and under my own power.”

Hux attempted a sympathetic look, an ugly grimace the closest approximation to a smile he could conjure. “You need not believe their lies, Princess. Clearly the short amount of time you have spent here has already warped your sensitive mind. These people are not your friends. If they were, they would release you to my care and allow you to return to your home.”

“The princess is free to leave if she so chooses,” Leia interjected. “But she is welcome to stay if that is her wish. It is not my home that has been her prison.”

“And I wouldn’t go back with you for anything,” Rey spat out.

“That being the case, I have no choice but to relay the message the Lord Protector has given me,” Hux replied, cruel glee reflecting in his eyes. “That, in denying culpability and offering no apology, for the aggressive acts of abduction and murder -- yes, murder, for three of our brave soldiers fell in the attempt to save our precious princess --, Alderaan has proven itself no friend to Naboo, or to the good of the Nine Realms. And if Alderaan continues to harbor as its prisoner Naboo’s future ruler, the Lord Protector will have no choice but to declare war and march on your lands as soon as may be.”

The color drained from Rey’s face. “You can’t do that!” she cried, her voice nearly lost in the angry shouts of the court around her. “He can’t do that!”  _ Leia’s not ready for this, _ she thought to herself.  _ I’m not ready. _

“Of course the Lord Protector does not wish to spill more blood than necessary,” Hux replied smoothly, “but the queen has forced his hand by not acceding to our request -”

“Demand,” Poe muttered.

“Threat,” from Bacca.

“- that she return what she has stolen.”

The ballroom was far from silent, but Leia stood erect and quiet. Even amid her horror, Rey admired her for it, especially as Leia’s steady stare seemed to unnerve Hux, whose tenuous grip on his control was slipping.

“You have a week to decide, your Majesty,” he said, his eyes growing a little more wild. “If the princess is still in your court by this time next week, you will have war on your hands.”

With a final sneer to Rey, he spun on his heel and stalked out of the ballroom, a bevy of pandemonium in his wake.

* * *

“I have to leave,” Rey stated. She looked around at the somber company seated at Leia’s table, still in their formal dress, the lamps dim in their sconces. All thought of celebration was long destroyed by Hux’s message.

“And I should go with you,” Finn spoke up. “I was the one who got you into this, Rey, and I should stick with you.”

Rey was grateful for his loyalty, though secretly she didn’t want to accept his offer. Finn had already been seriously injured in her service, and she didn’t want to put him in harm’s way again.

“We could always call Snoke’s bluff. He wouldn’t dare marching on us in our own homeland,” Poe commented.

“If only it were a bluff,” Maz replied. “We live on the border, don’t forget, so we have a better idea of his strength. His army could easily cut us down.”

Bacca didn’t speak, but nodded to agree with his wife.

“We’re not without an army of our own, my lady,” Poe argued. “And after what Rey has already been through, she shouldn’t have to keep running.”

“To protect as many people as I can, yes, I should,” Rey argued back. “It was a mistake to come here and make my presence so publicly known. It made you a direct target for Snoke’s wrath.”

“No, Rey,” Leia spoke up. “Don’t think that your being here was a mistake. You needed to be publicly seen and known to make your pleas and amass what allies you could. You couldn’t have done that if you had immediately gone into hiding.”

“And what good has that done?” Rey demanded. “No one has answered my messages.”

“They’ve hardly had time,” Leia pointed out.

“And they won’t in time for you to defend yourselves,” Rey finished. “I can’t stay here. You all know it. I won’t have the blood of your people on my hands if I can help it.”

“What I don’t get is this kidnapping nonsense,” Finn said. “I mean, yes, I understand that Snoke’s creating an excuse to go to war, but Rey has also openly stated that she escaped of her own volition. So why make that up?”

“To create confusion, primarily,” Leia answered wearily. “The seats of government in each realm are far apart, and it is to his benefit to put out conflicting stories. Rumors and inaccurate information surface just as quickly as official records, anyway, and he will gladly add to any misinformation, so as to slow down the possibility that others will support Rey. It becomes a simple case of ‘your word against mine’. And which story the Realms will choose to believe. Those who fear him may use his version of events as a reason to keep out of conflict.”

“And you’re right, Finn,” Bacca added. “It does give him the perfect excuse for breeding war, which could be exactly what he’s been waiting for. Probably why he used a ‘man of the cloth’ to deliver his ultimatum,” he growled sarcastically, “to give the appearance of righteousness. He may not have planned for Rey to run away, but he’s going to spin it to his advantage if he can. We’ve thought for years that he planned to restore the Empire; this could have expedited those plans. He couldn’t have done it five years ago with Hosnia; he had big numbers, but not enough to challenge all the Realms. That’s not true any more.”

“And if that’s the case, if that’s what he’s planning, it’s all the more important that I leave,” Rey reasserted, “and not allow him the excuse to hurt everyone before they have a fighting chance. It would put him off longer if I disappear; he won’t be able to set any plans in motion then. No one to use as a target except for me.” Events were spiraling beyond anything she had anticipated, and she was being crushed by the responsibility and guilt.

“Where would you go?” Poe asked incredulously. “Being constantly on the run won’t do you any good, either. And it’ll be winter soon enough. What good will it do for you to freeze to death?”

Rey narrowed her eyes in displeasure. “I don’t plan on freezing to death. I did manage to fend for myself for most of my life. I can last longer than you think. As for where I go, it would probably be safer for everybody if I don’t have a destination.”

“At least not one that anybody knows about,” Leia said quietly, pointedly looking toward Bacca. He sat back in his chair slowly.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” he asked dubiously. “It’s been nearly a year since his last communication; he may not be in the mood for a long-term visitor.”

“He will do it if his queen requires it,” Leia said grimly.

“What about his sister?” Bacca shot back with a raised brow. “Would he do it for her?”

“I would certainly hope so,” Leia replied with a small lift of her lips.

Rey glanced back and forth between them in confusion. What plan was being hatched under her nose? Maz looked as though she understood them, but both Poe and Finn looked as lost as she did.

“He won’t make it easy on her,” Bacca stated, not contentious but seemingly pointing out fact. “It’s no vacation spot he’s got there.”

“Don’t forget what Rey just said. She’ll fend for herself just fine. He’ll be kind enough to her. And she’ll be hidden away, far safer than here, and she won’t have to be constantly on the move.”

“If you’re done speaking in code,” Rey interrupted. It was rude, but it was also her life they were speaking about. “What are you talking about?”

They ignored her, and her nostrils flared. “Would you take her, Chewie?” Leia asked. “I can’t leave Aldera right now, and my movements would be watched more closely than yours. I’d be followed for sure, and he wouldn’t appreciate exposure.”

“Who?” Rey demanded with a slap on the table.

Finally Leia and Bacca turned to her, Leia’s mouth set in a tight line. Rey swallowed, fighting the feeling that she needed to apologize.

But Leia didn’t ask for an apology. “How would you like to meet Luke Skywalker?”

* * *

It was a tense two days as they made their preparations, secret as they had to be. Possible plans of action were posited by the members the court, and it was vital that no one knew what Rey’s true course would be. There was no telling what eyes Hux had in the royal quarter, though he had not reappeared himself. Rey kept to herself, unwilling to bear the speculation and scrutiny of the court. Only a day longer, and she would be gone, Bacca as her guide.

Finn had fought vociferously against being left behind, but Leia half-convinced, half-commanded him to be content in remaining in Aldera. The more in Rey’s party, the greater the chance of discovery. Rey had thought to shield Bacca from the dangers of coming along, as well, hoping that they would trust her to remember their directions. But Leia overrode this wish, as well. Luke’s home was a secret to all but her and Bacca (and possibly Maz, but this was never confirmed outright), and she doubted Rey could find it on her own. Leia was also certain that Rey, left to her own devices and foolhardy with the best intentions, would likely flee and go on the run as she first proposed.

Rey sighed; Leia’s fear was fully justified, for the thought of staying put in one place, even a secret place where lived the Rebellion’s greatest hero, made her terribly uneasy. She hadn’t slept well ever since the decision was made, and she doubted that she would breathe any easier even after leaving Aldera. She settled into her bed, the covers slipping over her frame easily, and hoped that her exhaustion would let her get some sleep, despite her anxiety.

She must have dozed off, because she was startled into alertness by a strange tapping sound. It sounded a little like pebbles knocked against a hard surface, and for a brief moment, she was afraid that someone was throwing rocks against her window for a midnight rendezvous. She’d heard of such goings-on, and she burrowed into her covers more vehemently, hoping that her visitor would get the message. She would not be tempted out to the low balcony outside her rooms for some foolish swain with a mistaken sense of romance.

The tapping stopped, and she relaxed a little. But she tensed immediately at the scraping sound that replaced it. She whirled around and saw a shadow at the glass door, a figure trying to force their way in. This was no admirer, but someone intent on getting into her rooms, most likely for some vicious purpose. Her covers went flying as she leapt out of the bed, snatching up the crossbow that she kept on a side table. It would be a disgrace to her upbringing to be caught without a weapon close at hand.

The figure had not noticed her movement, their gaze intent on breaking the locks. Otherwise they might have hesitated on seeing her lift the crossbow and take aim, waiting for the doors to open and allow a clean shot. Instead they kept on working at the handle. She still had never used the crossbow, but it was too late to regret not practicing now. She just hoped her aim wasn’t too terrible.

The scratching stopped, and she held her breath. A hand came into focus as it touched the handle, releasing the catch and allowing the door to swing open. Her finger trembled at the trigger.  _ Is the safety still on? _ The panicked thought halted her movements for a split second, sure that the intruder would soon discover that their quarry was not lying in the bed and she would be forced to let the arrow fly.

The door creaked open wider at the intruder’s push. Rey squinted, sending up a prayer for she knew not what. The door was open, she had a clear shot, the intruder took a single step inside, her finger squeezed the trigger, the arrow loosed.

And then another hulking shadow leapt down from sight unseen above her balcony, tackling the first to the ground. Rey was so shocked at the sight that she forgot to look where her arrow had gone. It had not hit either of the men, for men they both were. She could hear the telltale grunts and growls as they began grappling with each other. She dropped the crossbow and drew nearer.

The first shadow was shorter, and landed the first punch as they struggled to their feet, but it was a poor showing. The second, her apparent rescuer, didn’t pay any mind to it, and returned a round of hits and kicks that knocked the other back to the ground. The intruder still had the use of his legs, though, and he swiped awkwardly at the taller man’s feet, not managing to knock him down, but tripping him up so that he stumbled into the railing of the balcony. Rey didn’t know whether to be glad or not. She had no more idea of the second man’s intentions than the first.

The shorter one climbed to his feet, getting another punch into his opponent’s gut, who doubled over with an audible grunt. Rey was ready to launch herself onto the balcony and join in the fight when the taller one straightened, his hood flying back to reveal a face curled into a snarl, his teeth bared as though they were fangs. She stopped where she was.

Was it her destiny for Ben Solo to appear every time she needed rescue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, welcome back to the story, Ben!


	11. Midnight Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and her rescuer have a bit of a chat. She comes to a realization about him.

The Captain grabbed hold of his enemy with both hands, his long fingers gripping at the front of the other man’s clothes, hauling him close with a furious shake. The other man pushed and pulled in an attempt to free himself, but the Captain’s hold on him was too strong. His face was contorted in fury, just as it had been when she had seen him pulling his sword out of that soldier. All at once she was afraid, far more than she had been at the prospect of an attacker in her room.

“Ben!” she cried out. It was incredible how easily his name slipped from her lips; her constant repetition of it in the gallery had done its job.

His gaze darted to her, a wild confusion replacing his fury. It was the wrong time for distraction. Rey saw the glint of the knife a moment too late; the intruder drew it and slashed it across Ben’s forearm, and he drew back in pain. Rey, immediately ashamed at her part in distracting him and hungry to avenge him, made for the man with little else than the sudden anger in her breast.

She didn’t get a chance to unleash it. Now the intruder was the one distracted by her movements, and Ben took advantage of it. With one solid blow of his good arm across the man’s head, he laid his opponent out cold. Left in a heap propped up against the balcony rail.

Rey blankly stared for a moment at the lump, barely hearing the heavy breathing of the man who had saved her.

“Quickly,” he spoke urgently, breaking her out of her momentary daze. “Do you have rope? Anything to tie him up with?”

Rey rushed around, but spare rope was not a common article in one’s bedchamber. She ended up tearing off the ties that were wrapped around the curtains, handing them to Ben with a hand that still trembled.

He could have complained about the inferior substitution, but he said nothing, and made short work of binding the man’s hands and feet. Heaving a sigh once his work was done, he stood up to his full, imposing height. They gazed at each other for a few silent moments, allowing the intensity to fade and Rey’s shock at seeing him subside.

Rey cast about in her mind for something to say. She supposed she should express her gratitude, but how exactly should she phrase it? “Thank you for knocking out the man who wanted to get into my room?” It was all too strange. And he apparently wasn’t going to break the silence.

Rey’s eyes fell to his arm, and decided to focus on that rather than force on him an awkward greeting. She took a few steps toward him, pointing to his injury. “We should attend to that.”

He looked down, then back up to her. “There’s no need. It’ll heal.”

She pursed her lips at his stubborn dismissal, and closed the distance between them, taking his arm firmly in her grasp. “And it’ll heal faster if it’s looked at.” Where she found the courage to touch him and lead him farther into her room, she didn’t know, but at least he allowed her to guide him to the stool that sat at her vanity.

“One minute,” she said, pointing again to direct him to sit. He did so quietly, spreading out his cloak to puddle on the floor behind the stool. Rey struck a match, lighting a couple of the lamps, and retrieved the basin of water that lay on her washstand. She placed this on the vanity, then moved to her attached sitting room, dragging in a chair to place in front of him. She was glad at least that she knew where to find bandages, having packed some in preparation for her departure. She pulled the cloth out of her satchel, then crossed back over to sit on the chair. All this she did, feeling his keen eyes watching her relentlessly, though she had not dared to look at him once the lamps were lit. Emotions battled within her at his abrupt appearance, and the only one she would dare admit to herself was confusion.

What was he doing there?

But she didn’t ask. Instead, she pushed back the soiled cloth of his sleeve to his elbow, revealing the angry red line that crossed his skin. She was relieved to see that it was long, but not deep. He was right that it would heal, and probably without her help, but she would not let him get away, not when she was brimming with curiosity and waiting for the bravery to give voice to it. She dipped a cloth into the water, wrung it out, then with a slight hesitation, she pressed it against the wound.

He took in a sharp, hissing breath at the pressure, and Rey finally looked up at him. His features, which had been obscured by the darkness, were now distinct in the flickering light. A light scruff covered his face, and he looked weary, but his eyes . . . they were just as they had ever been. A steady, unwavering gaze that held her captive as she tried to decipher every emotion that flickered through them. Wariness that reminded her that danger was just outside her door. Reassurance that for now the danger was held at bay. Sorrow and pain. And a searching, as though he longed for the same assurance that his presence gave her.

Rey swallowed, and looked away, remembering her self-appointed task. She resumed wiping at the cut. She held his arm steady with her free hand, and she tried to concentrate on cleaning the blood and not the warmth and strength underneath her fingertips. She felt, rather than saw, Ben cast his eyes around her room.

“Have you actually used that thing before tonight?” he finally broke the silence. Rey followed his gaze to where she had dropped the crossbow.

“No,” she said. “I’m afraid this is the first time I’ve had to defend myself against an assassin.”

A small huff of air was all the humor he expressed. Rey chewed the inside of her lip for a moment. “That’s what he is. Was. Right?”

He sobered at the question, and nodded.

She scrunched her nose. “You’d think that would be what Snoke would have done to me years ago.”

“We can’t be sure it was Snoke who hired him,” Ben said in a low voice.

Rey pulled back. Despite everything, was Ben still loyal to him? Was she wrong to now think of him as Ben?

He must have sensed her thoughts. “It’s entirely possible that he did. A hired knife kills you, gives him another reason to declare war by pinning the blame on Alderaan. But it’s just as possible that someone from within the Alderaanian court enlisted his services.”

Rey’s lips parted slowly. There had been those she mistrusted in the court here, but none so much as to suspect them of something so terrible.

“All with the noblest of motives, of course,” Ben went on bitterly, his gaze distant. “No one knows what you’re going to do. If you stay in Aldera, Snoke declares war. So how does someone make certain you’re gone within a week?” He shrugged, jerking his head to the unconscious man as his answer. “Never mind that doing so plays right into Snoke’s hands. But hardly anybody here uses their head.”

Rey dipped the cloth in the water again. “And you’ve been hanging around, just waiting to get the drop on some unsuspecting assassin, is that it?” She held her breath, afraid he wouldn’t answer.

But he surprised her. “Maybe not for that one in particular, but yes. I’ve been around. A lifetime of being unable to trust anybody but myself, but it’s too late for me to change.”

Rey looked up. “How long have you been here?”

“A week. And a half.”

“A week and a half you’ve been in Alderaan and you didn’t think of actually speaking to me?”

He sighed through his nose. “I never planned on revealing myself unless it was absolutely necessary. It wasn’t, until tonight.”

“What about your mother?” she asked, a hint of pleading weaved into her words.

She didn’t miss the flash of pain that crossed over his countenance. But he schooled himself quickly, a small bob of his throat all the effort he betrayed. “She wouldn’t want to see me.”

Rey clenched her jaw and let the cloth drop in the basin with a loud plop. “And how do you know that? Have you asked her?”

“I don’t need to,” he said quietly, his eyes becoming hooded and dark. “It’s too late for me to come back.”

“And yet here you are,” she argued, her own eyes blazing. “Why would you come here without even considering the possibility?”

He didn’t answer. He wouldn’t answer, she could tell. She exhaled in exasperation. “What are you doing here, then?”

He lifted his chin. “I think it’s fairly obvious, considering what just happened.”

A traitorous bounding feeling in her stomach cut through her frustration. If she interpreted his words correctly, he was here for her. It was totally unfair that this realization should mean so much to her when she should be focused on reuniting Leia with her son. She tried not to betray her private pleasure, and reached for the bandage.

“And how did you get here?” she asked, winding the cloth around his arm.

“I borrowed a horse.”

She looked up through her lashes at him skeptically. “Borrowed?”

He smirked. “Yes. Borrowed. From one of my knights.”

Rey tied off the bandage and sat back. “And they were all right with you borrowing a horse to make sure I was protected. Your Knights of Ren.”

His smirk faded. “Perhaps you don’t realize this, your Highness, but my knights, at least the ones I chose, are loyal to me. They are not called the Knights of Snoke.”

“But your name isn’t even -”

“They are loyal to me,” he interrupted sternly. “And you should be glad of it, considering the lengths we went to so that you could get as far as you could without detection.”

Rey’s eyes widened. “You mean they -”

He shook his head furiously at himself. Apparently this was not information he had intended on divulging. He shook his sleeve back down, ignoring the bloodied tear in the fabric. But he didn’t stay silent; he must have known she would pump him for clarification and wasn’t in the mood to fight her. “Some I sent to lay false trails going south. Others watched over the eastern hills, trying to keep abreast of the news coming out of there, in case you were discovered on the way and needed help. Fortunately the guard was more competent than I thought he would be, and you didn’t need anyone until you reached the pass.”

“So that’s why there were reports that I was going to Jakku?”

He nodded shortly. “It was the only road you’d traveled, and to anyone who’s never been there, it would make sense for you to want to return to a familiar place.” She grimaced at the thought of returning to Jakku, which brought his smirk back. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured smugly.

“Anyway,” he continued, “it was a chore to pretend we were searching for you and protect you all at once, but it is what it is. So now you know why it’s not so shocking that one of my knights would lend me a horse once you took mine.”

Rey gave him half a smile. “You gave him to me.”

“Because you were being a fool and wouldn’t leave behind the guard.”

“What would you have me do?” she asked irately. “After everything he risked, I couldn’t leave him. Would you leave behind one of your companions?”

“Yes,” he said shortly. “And they would want me to. If I hadn’t come along and let you take Falcon, do you think your friend would have been happy if you had stayed behind with him to be captured? After everything he risked?” he repeated her words purposely.

Rey had no answer to that. She had a horrible feeling he was right. If Finn had been able to speak at the time, he would have urged her to go on alone. So she attacked Ben with a new question.

“And what about Snoke? Does he know what you’ve done?”

Of all the nerve! He rolled his eyes at her! “Of course.”

She hadn’t expected such a blunt answer, and it momentarily robbed her of coherent speech. “And . . . how did . . . when . . .”

His eyes hardened. “Snoke’s not a fool. I think he suspected very early. Your departure was too neat to be accomplished by a mere palace guard. He knew the guard must have a confederate, and that I was that confederate must have crossed his mind. But . . . “ he suddenly had to take in a shaky breath. “I have given him every reason to believe I would never betray him.”

Rey’s mind went to Leia’s story of Han’s death. Judging by the tremor in Ben’s voice, his thoughts tended in the same direction, and her heart swelled in compassion at the hurt he surely must be masking behind his vague words.

“So he may have suspected me, but not enough to truly doubt me, which meant I was able to carry out my plans without much interference. For a couple of weeks. But it couldn’t be concealed forever; he has other agents, and eventually the truth of my movements had to come out. He knew by the time I rode for the hills. It was as much for my own protection as yours that I left Theed when I did.”

“And after you helped us at the canyon?” Rey prodded.

“I regrouped with my knights. Waited for word of your arrival in Aldera. Listened for news of Snoke’s reprisals. Among other things,” he spoke succinctly, and Rey knew she would get no further information on the doings of the other Knights of Ren. “So I borrowed a horse and came to Aldera, to make sure that all my efforts weren’t for nothing. After everything I’ve given up, it would be poor repayment to learn that the queen wasn’t offering you the help you deserved.”

“But you knew she would. That’s why you sent me,” Rey argued, hoping she could bring the conversation back to his mother, tempted to drag him by the arm to Leia’s rooms and push them together. The wonder was that the commotion on her balcony had not caused Leia to come running. But as yet there was no indication that anybody was investigating the disturbance.

“Yes,” he conceded, his eyes trained steadily on her now. “I knew she would. But as I said, a lifetime of not trusting anybody else meant I had to be sure. Which meant coming here myself.”

Silence hung over them again, in which Rey found herself marveling. Not only at the actions this man had taken on her behalf, but at the strange circumstances which had brought him to her door this night. That he was speaking so freely to her after two years of the barest civilities, that his deep, resonating voice filled her with a comfort she didn’t quite understand. That she owed him so much and hadn’t yet thanked him.

She extended a hand and touched his knee. He had been fairly still, but at the feeling of her fingers grazing his knee, his body went positively rigid. He bowed his head slowly to look at her hand, and Rey was sure she had offended him. But she didn’t much care if she had. It was too important for her to say this.

“Thank you,” she said simply, and his shoulders lifted and fell with a deep breath, his gaze still fixed on her hand. “It’s long overdue by now, but thank you. I don’t know why you would do all that you have done, just for me, but I won’t forget it.”

The lump in his throat bobbed again, and he nodded shortly, but that was all she could observe before he shot off of the stool and out of her reach. It was as though her touch had physically pained him. She pushed back her disappointment at his retreat. Was he going to leave now? Would he disappear again?

“Have they treated you well here?” he asked, his back to her, his voice a low murmur.

She perked up. So he wasn’t going to leave as quickly as she feared. “Yes. Leia - your mother -” he needed the reminder of who exactly the queen was, in her opinion, “has been very kind to me. A little harsh, sometimes, but only because there were lessons I needed to learn.”

He nodded, and he turned a little, his body sideways to her view. “And the others?”

“Do you mean Bacca? Chewie?” she hurriedly corrected. That was the name Leia said Ben knew the duke by, wasn’t it?

His shrug was more of a spasm. “Anybody.”

Rey paused. “It wasn’t what I expected. I thought it would be an ideal society, the complete opposite to the Imperial Court. But it’s not. One of my lessons, I suppose.”

He had turned that penetrating stare on her again, and her breath quickened unusually before continuing. “But there have been friendly people here. It’s been a difficult adjustment, but I have found people who have made it easier for me.”

“Like Lord Dameron,” he surmised, his voice surprisingly cold. Rey took only a moment to reflect that Poe was succeeding to the role that Ben himself would have, had events not turned out the way they did. She supposed that accounted for the bitterness. But she would not spare his feelings by downplaying the friendship Poe had offered her.

“Yes, he has been especially attentive. I’ve enjoyed his company.”

“I can tell.”

Rey furrowed her brow, puzzled. There was actual venom in his voice now. Did he despise Poe so greatly?

“He’s a good man.”

“Oh, I know,” the venom continued. “And handsome and charming, full of gallantry.”

Rey smiled in stark contrast to his tone, remembering how she had so mistaken Poe’s charm and gallantry as it pertained to her. “Yes, he is all those things. He draws people to him very easily. I’m glad to be included among his friends.”

Ben looked at her sharply. “ _ Just _ his friends?”

Rey chuckled. “Well it’s certain I won’t ever be one of his flirts, thank goodness. I don’t think I could have handled that.”

“In time you would have. Most women do.”

“Well, time is something I don’t have,” Rey replied soberly. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

He faced her fully now, regarding her closely again. “So you will save Alderaan by risking your life out in the open again.”

“What did you think I would do?” Rey asked in indignation. “If I wouldn’t leave Finn to be killed, what makes you think I would stay to let Leia’s people die? They don’t have the numbers to fight against Snoke, and if there’s something I can do to avoid unnecessary death, I’m going to do it.”

He paused for a moment. “I didn’t expect anything different from you,” he admitted, “but after everything that has happened, you can’t ask me to approve of your leaving a place of safety and putting yourself in harm’s way. The point of your coming here was to gather allies, and like it or not, war does require sacrifice, even of people you don’t know.”

“I didn’t ask for anyone’s approval,” Rey challenged, rising to her feet. “And do you remember what you told me? That night in Theed?”

He lifted an eyebrow, bewildered at the reference.

“You said that a retreat could be in my favor, if I kept my allies  _ and _ wits about me. Well, I’ve tried the allies route. And I’m not giving up on it, not really. But I also want a chance to come up with another way so that I don’t drag all the Realms into a bloody war. If I can think of a way to avoid that, I’ll take it.”

They stared each other down, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw his fingers tap against his leg. And his gaze grew less sharp and more pensive the longer he looked at her. “Well, if you’re going to use my own words to justify your running off into the wilderness, I suppose I won’t try to stop you,” he said reluctantly.

Rey smirked, wondering how he would react to her reply. “I’m not going to go running off into the wilderness; I’m going to Luke.”

He reared back, and any gentleness in his face vanished as he turned away. “What good could that old hermit do?” The venom that had been in his voice as he spoke of Poe returned at the mention of his uncle.

“I don’t really know yet, but his home is apparently a secret to everyone, so it’s a place of safety. And . . . I do want to meet him.”

He scoffed and walked to the open door. “Of course you do. Who wouldn’t want to meet the great Rebellion hero?”

What had happened between them? Did Ben have a personal grievance with every person she would mention, beyond the years of separation that had come from his withdrawal?

She heard him huff, his shoulders rising and falling in exaggerated fashion. “Well, it’s true that no one knows where Luke lives, outside of three people. You’ll be safe with him. Is my mother taking you? Or Chewie?”

Rey had to remind herself he wasn’t talking about the dog. “Chewie.”

His head bobbed a few times. “He’ll get you there well enough, then.”

Rey crossed the room to stand beside him. He faced the gardens and outer wall beyond, his expression hard to see thanks to the cloudy night and the lamplight at his back. She had a feeling he was about to bid her farewell.

He nodded to the unconscious assassin. “He’s sure to wake up soon. Once I’m gone, you’ll need to call someone in to take care of him. Let them think you took him on; I don’t think anyone will doubt you.” His head lowered as he muttered, “It’s probably a more believable story to them than what really happened.”

Again Rey was seized with the desire to call out for Leia and force Ben to face her. Leia had been right; Ben didn’t believe it was possible that she could love and forgive him. Rey wanted to shake him and tell him he was an idiot for believing Snoke’s manipulations, especially since it was obvious he had turned against him. If he was free of Snoke’s influence now, why couldn’t he root out that poisonous belief that he had no family to welcome him home? But she didn’t say anything, not wanting to finish their odd encounter with an argument.

“Will you follow us to Luke’s, too?” she asked, half-hoping he would say yes.

“No,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I don’t need to.”

So despite his contemptuous words about his uncle, he agreed she would be safe there. That eased some of the knots in her stomach, at least.

“What will you do?”

He pursed his lips. “There’s something . . . something else. You want to win this war without bloodshed,” he said, turning to her. She had to crane her neck up to meet his gaze; his eyes she hadn’t forgotten, but his towering height and broad shoulders had slipped through the cracks. “There might be a way. I’m going to see if it’s possible.”

His words were mysterious, and when he didn’t expand on them, she asked, “Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“No. In case I’m wrong.”

Rey’s shoulders slumped. What was it about this family that kept secrets to be revealed at the most dramatic moment? She couldn’t say she admired this trait. And her displeasure must have shown on her face, because Ben gave her a tight-lipped but amused half-smile.

“Don’t worry about me. You’ll be off finding your own, better way, I’m sure,” he said dryly.

Her voice caught in her throat. How could she not worry about him? But she was embarrassed at the thought of protesting and admitting that she did worry for him.

“And maybe your experience with Luke will be better than mine. Odds are he probably won’t try to kill you.”

_ What?!? _ Again with the momentous revelations that completely upended her perceptions of these people!

His lopsided smile appeared once more at her thunderstruck expression. “Though, to be fair, I tried to kill him, too.”

He turned and walked out the door, preparing to make the jump from the balcony to the garden level (a drop of only three or four steps), when Rey finally found her voice again.

“Wait!” she cried out, a little too loud, and hurried to the balcony. He whipped around at her call, and he searched her face in that piercing way as she came closer. “Will I see you again?” she asked, a little breathless and shy once the words escaped her.

Now it was his turn to be floored. His eyes bulged and he stepped back. He looked around as he considered his answer. When he looked back at her, he asked, “Do you want to?”

She stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to.”

Even without the moonlight to reflect in them, his eyes glittered strangely. “Then you will,” he stated deliberately, and then jumped.

Rey watched him pick his way quietly and swiftly along the garden paths, keeping to the shadows as he neared the outer wall. Like a great, enormous cat, he made a leap, somehow found purchase along the smooth stone, and climbed up and over in the blink of an eye, his now-familiar cloak trailing behind him as he disappeared. And she realized something as a lonely pang hit her in the chest.

The mystery of why she had shown no interest in men was becoming clear. Handsome though men like Poe and Finn were, and appealing others may be, but they were all simply too late to the game. Their charms never stood a chance from the moment she had lifted that visor and been caught in the dark fire of Ben Solo’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, he just got back, and I'm making him disappear again. But I promise he won't be gone for nearly as many chapters this time.


	12. The Hermit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey comes face to face with a legend and isn't sure of what to think of him.

All in all, Rey preferred traveling in the open to picking one’s way along unknown backcountry in secret. But there was little point complaining when one had no choice. Bacca wouldn’t have put up with it, anyway. He was all too focused on making sure they weren’t being followed, doubling back and taking a variety of routes. Several times their travels were hampered by increasing rain and muddy paths that would reveal their tracks, which meant waiting out the weather in some cases, and forging false trails for unwelcome followers in others. Rey lost track of how many days they had traveled and still wasn’t totally sure of their general direction until they reached the forested cliffs overlooking the sea.

Rey had been a little disappointed when Bacca told her she would not be taking Falcon. She felt more assured being on the great horse’s back, and riding him would have given her another link to his owner, who was on her mind more often than ever before. Before slipping away in the hubbub surrounding the aborted attack (in which the prevailing question was how exactly the assailant had gotten into the royal quarter undetected), Rey had drawn Leia aside. She thought it best to conceal from the general public Ben Solo’s involvement in the night’s events, as he had suggested, but she would not hide his appearance from the queen.

The way Leia’s countenance overflowed with tension, pride, and anguish was burned into Rey’s memory, and half the time she was following Bacca, she wanted to kick herself for not following those instincts she’d had to force the Captain --  _ Captain no longer, _ she reminded herself -- to face his mother. What good it would have done for the woman she admired. And what good it would do for him, to see clearly how much he had been missed. But, just as there was no point complaining about the roundabout way Bacca led her to the seaside, there was no use dwelling on her frustrations.

The sight of the ocean below her was the first thing to truly drive Ben Solo out of her consciousness in days. She shoved aside the surprise that not all oceans were attached to warm, sandy beaches (not that she had ever even seen those), and simply basked in the wind that whipped her cloak around her, tearing tendrils of hair out of her braid. The sky was overcast and bleak, but the rocky cliffs and tall trees, sloping down to churning surf that crashed and flowed chaotically before smoothing out into an endless expanse was beautiful in its wildness. Just before the horizon, Rey saw a speck of an island jutting out of the water, and for a moment, she was afraid that Bacca would be taking her there. Many things she had learned in the last two years, but being in a boat was not one of them.

Fortunately for her, their destination was not that lonely island. Bacca took her back within the shelter of the trees, and it was another couple of hours before his feet slowed in that tell-tale way that suggested their journey was near its end. Rey was relieved, not only because she might expect another respite, but also because autumn was getting on and temperatures were becoming less cool and more cold. She hoped they would soon come upon some glade where Luke’s home could be situated, but no such clearing was in view.

Bacca halted suddenly, his ear tipped upwards toward the canopy, his black eyes darting back and forth as he listened. Beyond the distant surf and the chattering of birds, Rey could hear nothing. He held a finger to his lips in warning, and, lifting his ever-present crossbow more securely into his arms, he jerked his head for her to follow.

A few more quiet steps, a turn here, an unexpected slope that Rey half-slipped down, another turn, and suddenly she was face-to-face with a solid, white stone wall. She took a couple steps back to get a better view, and saw that the wall belonged to a moderately-sized cottage, two stories high, with a few carved-out windows dotting the exterior. 

Bacca cursed quietly. “I was  _ afraid  _ I’d mucked it up; we came around the back. He won’t appreciate that.”

Rey peeked into the closest window as best she could, and all she could see was darkness. Was Luke even home? Surely they could walk around to the front of the house and he would be none the wiser.

Bacca took another couple of steps, going as quietly as he could. Rey was close at his heels, wanting desperately to inquire why he seemed even more cautious now than at any point in their journey thus far. She had herself begun to grow a little fearful. The few words Leia and Bacca had spoken of Luke made him seem a foreboding presence rather than a brave hero. Not to mention Ben’s offhand comment about them trying to kill each other. Was she right to give in to the persuasion that she come here?

They reached the back corner of the house, and just as Bacca stuck out his leg to turn around it, a harsh, unseen voice declared, “Stop right there!”

Bacca hung his head and sighed. He seemed more resigned than afraid, though, and stepped out fully from behind the back wall. Rey inched closer to him, and the voice’s harshness immediately vanished. “Chewie?”

“Who do you think?” he answered, walking forward and out of Rey’s sight. Hastily she followed him around the corner, and came to a quick stop.

Granted, her view of Luke was a little obstructed by Bacca’s back, but she was surprised at how ordinary he looked. His build was neither impressive nor slight, his hair and beard were iron-gray, nearly matching the cloak he wore over lighter clothing. Next to Bacca, who seemed as timeless as he was old, he looked wizened and worn. He could have been any old man who came to bargain for drinks at any of the taverns in Jakku. She stamped back the vague feeling of disappointment at the sight of him.

The only really remarkable thing about his appearance was the gleaming sword he held in his hand, lowering it as Bacca came closer. “Chewie, what are you doing here?” he asked, a hint of wonder creeping into his voice. And could it be happiness, as well?

It must have been, for he immediately closed the remaining distance between them, and, casting aside his sword, threw his arms around Bacca, narrowly avoiding being skewered by the trusty crossbow. Rey saw one of Luke’s hands grip Bacca’s back, while the other, encased in a glove, lay stiff and unmoving. Bacca returned the embrace wholeheartedly, and the pressure in Rey’s chest eased a bit at seeing a delighted smile cross over Luke’s face when they separated. It certainly had a softening effect on the man’s countenance.

At least, it did until he spied her from around Bacca’s beefy arms. He didn’t reach for his sword again, but the smile faded and his eyes turned intense as he looked at her, and then back to Bacca. Bacca followed his eyes, but didn’t say anything in answer to Luke’s unspoken question, and Rey felt powerless to speak until either one of them did. Here she was, in Luke Skywalker’s presence, her life and safety dependent on him, and she felt distinctly unwelcome. She suppressed a shiver, all the while maintaining her own gaze on him, afraid to even blink.

Luke’s expression promptly changed from questioning to knowing, and he seemed irritated at the conclusion he’d come to in his mind. He glanced up to Bacca, cocking an eyebrow. “So that’s how it is, then?”

Bacca chuckled. “Well, it’s good that you’re not completely out of the loop.”

“Can’t be, not with the way Roland the Second carries on with the latest gossip.”

“How long were you waiting for us, anyway?” Bacca asked, jerking his head around to the back of the house.

“Oh, ten minutes or so. You frightened off some of the magpies.”

“I wondered what tipped you off.”

“I’m impressed, though. You’d think I would have heard the sound of your giant feet crashing through the underbrush from five miles away,” Luke said with a smirk, to which Bacca responded with a light punch on Luke’s chest, knocking him back a couple of steps.

The light-hearted banter didn’t last, though. Luke sobered and let out a long sigh through his nose, again fixing his stare on Rey. Maybe this was a family trait; his sister and nephew certainly shared it.

“Well, you might as well come in.”

* * *

Rey still hadn’t spoken much, except when prompted by Bacca, whom she was beginning more and more to call “Chewie” in her mind. They were seated in a dining area that was attached to a sizable kitchen, where Roland the Second scurried between the wood stove and sideboard, preparing a hot meal. The manservant was just as old as Luke, and the dome of his bald head shone in the firelight to give emphasis to his age, but he moved energetically, hopping to and fro with various squeaks and whistles to punctuate his movements.

Luke had been hunched over the table’s edge, his arms propped against it. The false hand that Rey had belatedly remembered he required was a little disconcerting, but the glove encasing it mitigated the strangeness of the sight, and she tried her best to not stare at it. Chewie-Bacca never spared it a single glance.

When Chewie finished speaking, Luke leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, his lips pointedly turned downwards. “I don’t think I’ll be of any use to you, your Highness. My reputation with house guests is hardly stellar. How long exactly do you propose to stay here?” Rey couldn’t tell if his tone meant that he had agreed to the scheme. Hardly a welcome from the former hero.

“She’s not asking for any more than a roof over her head, Luke. She’ll be here as long as she needs,” Chewie replied.

Luke kept his scrutinizing eyes on Rey. “And how long will that be? Winter will be here soon, and Snoke’s plans will necessarily be delayed by weather. That could mean any length of time that you’ll be stuck here.”  _ That I’ll be stuck with you, _ Rey could almost hear him add.

“I . . .” Rey glanced over to Chewie, then back to Luke. “I don’t know how long I’ll need. I know I’ll need to be informed if there are any answers from the Realms, and those will go to Aldera. Once I have those assurances, I can’t expect to formulate plans with them from here.”

He huffed in surly agreement. “You’re right about that. I’ve put too much effort into being safely anonymous here to give it up.”

Chewie eyed him with mild irritation. “It might be helpful every once in a while if you would come out of hiding, you know. Eventually someone is going to figure out who you are.”

“They haven’t in twelve years; I don’t see why it would start now unless one of my trusted confidants gives me away,” Luke replied levelly.

“Or your untrustworthy one,” Chewie countered, and Luke jerked as if he’d been stung.

“If he hasn’t given me away by now, I doubt he ever will.” His blue eyes squinted in a wince.

“Do you mean Ben?” Rey asked. If Luke had lived here as long as he said he had, it must mean that this was where Ben had disappeared from.

Luke’s head swiveled toward her. “What do you know about him?”

Rey opened her mouth, then hesitated. Chewie had conveniently left out the details of Rey’s journey, primarily the ones where Luke’s nephew played a role. She hadn’t thought to protest his telling, as they had wanted to get to the point of their journey as quickly as possible. But seeing the haunted shadow in Luke’s face, she began to think Chewie’s exclusion of Ben had been deliberate.

“She knows plenty,” Chewie supplied. “And you’ll be interested in what she’ll have to tell you about him that  _ you _ don’t know.”

Luke stared intently at her, and, at a nod from Chewie, she began filling in the gaps.

It was a similar experience to sharing her story with Leia, although Luke stood and paced to deal with his emotion rather than gripping Rey’s hand as Leia had done. When Rey finished recounting Ben’s rescue of her in Aldera, the room was silent except for the crackling of the fire in the stove. Even Roland stood still, breathless with anticipation for his master’s reaction.

Luke propped an arm against the wall, leaning into the crook of his elbow. Whether he gave way to tears, she couldn’t tell, but his shoulders rose and fell sporadically as though he were trying to control his emotions. When he pulled back, he looked at her again. “And he knew you were coming here?”

Rey nodded.

“What did he say to that?”

Rey cast her mind back to that night, unsure if she should share how contemptuous Ben had initially seemed at the idea. “He . . . he said I would be safe here.”

This, more than any other detail she had given, shook Luke’s frame. A spasm rippled through his body, and Rey caught a flash of intense pain in his eyes as he looked away. Rey rather thought that he was going to cry now.

Perhaps he did. She couldn’t tell. It was a few minutes before he collected himself to meet their eyes again. “Then you can stay.”

* * *

Once more Chewie left Rey on her own fairly quickly. As Luke had pointed out, winter would arrive soon enough, and Chewie would need time to travel back to Aldera as stealthily as he had left it, as well as have the time to return to Bacca before more inclement weather blocked his efforts. The vague warnings she had been given regarding Luke’s hospitality were fully realized; he allowed her a place to stay, and she was able to roam freely in and near the spacious cottage, but otherwise he left her alone.

Fortunately, Roland the Second (an appellation Luke used only when he seemed especially perturbed) was more than happy to play host to Rey, informing her of the everyday routines of the house, its proximity to the ocean, his long-time devotion to “Master Luke”, and how they fended for themselves.

They kept a considerable garden on the front side of the house, which Luke tended in addition to frequent fishing. A sturdy, plain pigeon loft stood beside it, and the occasional coo from its residents could be heard. But Luke and Roland could not provide for themselves everything they needed, and the occasional venture to the nearest seaside community was necessary. Ahch-To was a tiny fishing village under the shadow of an abbey where lived the Sisters of the Jedha Order. Most of the time Roland made the obligatory outings, but Luke’s presence could not be hidden, although his precise identity was kept secret. It was generally agreed upon by the community at large that he was “kind of a strange old hermit”, but as he gave no trouble, and did the occasional good work by the side of the Sisters, the villagers thought no harm of him and left him to himself. Easy enough to do, as it was not a short hike between the secluded house and the village.

Aside from his delighted solicitations of Rey’s comfort and giving her some company, Roland kept himself occupied tending to the house and storing up in the root cellar against the coming winter. As Rey was forbidden from leaving the house and gardens, she found herself put to work in the kitchen more often than not, bottling and salting and drying various foods as the days passed. It could be monotonous work, but Roland made it a cheerful experience with his constant whistling, and Rey was glad to be of some use. Not to mention that keeping her hands busy kept her mind from dwelling on unpleasant thoughts for too long.

But when left on her own, and especially when she was trying to fall asleep, the thoughts crowded in upon her, leaving her restless and weary. Roland carried back news from the village that, after her secret departure from Aldera, Hux had indeed slinked away back on the road to Naboo, and so far no declaration of war had been made. But the brief relief this news brought her did not last.

How was she to know how to proceed with any plans at all from such a place? Was there anything to be gained from staying here beyond simply hiding out? She couldn’t be satisfied doing that while ignorant and worried about what was happening beyond the cottage walls, and what fresh horrors Snoke could be cooking up. There had to be something she could do as she considered her options, and she was kept awake by continual fretting over the feeling of powerlessness that overcame her.

The cottage, though large for the modest name, had only three main rooms on the ground floor. The kitchen and attached dining area, an empty room that must have served as a parlor if it were furnished, and the library, cluttered and overflowing with ancient texts and scrolls. Rey frequented the library in the hopes that there might be something worth learning in her free time, reasoning that she must prepare herself with whatever tools were available in exile. And perhaps there would be evidence that Ben Solo had once been there.

He was a constant presence in her thoughts, as well, as she wondered what precisely his secret mission was, and where it would take him. She worried over his safety, pondered over the efforts of his knights, and -- when she dwelled overlong on the memory of his face and figure in her most private moments -- considered the attraction she had finally admitted to herself when he scaled that wall.

The faceless Captain had always been a fascinating figure, but there was a new, exciting, and dangerous flutter in her body as she thought of him, now that he was also Ben Solo with the soul-deep eyes and broad shoulders. She felt a little guilty at her judgment of the dalliances of the Alderaanian court now, as her imagination began conjuring scenarios she had never before considered partaking in. These fantasies were innocent enough, barely venturing far beyond the brush of his hand against hers, but she wasn’t entirely sure it was right to indulge them. He may be exerting himself on her behalf now, but that didn’t change the fact that he was a dangerous man, and had spent years serving Snoke. Knowing more of his history, she was inclined to be forgiving, as his mother was, but was it wise to dwell in her imagination with him? Could she really desire a man who was guilty of so many misdeeds? And how nonsensical was it for her to be thinking of a man at all when the fate of nations was in her hands?

So the library was doubly her haven, for who had time for imagining romantic interludes when there were the potential horrors of war to occupy her mind? Of course, sitting in the library meant hours of awkward silences in Luke’s presence. When he was not tending to his menial duties, the library was his dwelling-place. The first time Rey entered the room, he jolted and hastily shuffled some books and papers out of sight from the jumble on his desk, and she was afraid that he would turn her away. But he did not, nor did he at any other time she wandered in. He would brusquely acknowledge her and return to his own studies, but beyond that, he ignored her.

Which was why it was a surprise to her after several days when he finally broke the silence.

“I should probably thank you,” he spoke, and she whirled around at the sound of his gruff, unused voice. “If you weren’t here, I’d be the one stuck in the kitchen with Roland, bearing the brunt of his incessant whistling.”

Rey could tell his complaint was not mean-spirited, but she said, “Oh, I don’t mind it at all. He keeps the gloom away..”

Luke seemed amused at her mild defense. “Well, you’d probably grow weary of it after thirty years, as I have.”

Rey ventured a smile. “Perhaps.”

Having thus begun a dialogue, Luke probably realized it was his responsibility to continue it. He cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “I hope you’re not too uncomfortable. We don’t offer luxurious accommodations by any stretch of the imagination.”

“But they’re more than sufficient,” Rey interjected. “It’s more than I’ve known for most of my life.”

He shifted back in his chair. “But not the last couple of years, I’d wager.”

“No,” she admitted awkwardly. She looked down and away from the way he fixed his stare on her again.

“Must have been a strange adjustment,” he observed.

“Very,” she replied shortly. The less she thought of her time in the Imperial Court, the better. Snoke’s predatory manner overcame her memories if she pondered too long on them.

“And you don’t remember anything of your life before Jakku,” Luke speculated, his good hand lightly tapping a short stack of parchment.

Rey glanced up sharply. “Before Jakku?” He lifted his brow inquisitively at her reaction. “I’ve never had reason to believe I lived anywhere else.”

Luke drew in his mouth pensively, his eyes flicking to the parchment he still tapped. “And maybe you didn’t. But there’s always the possibility you don’t remember.”

His tone was neutral, but Rey felt a budding anger clench at her chest. “It doesn’t matter if I did live somewhere else; I never knew anything but Jakku. Wherever I came from, whoever I was with, it’s nothing. Jakku was the life I knew.”

“I see. I didn’t mean to anger you, your Highness. Just making an observation,” Luke replied, still in that mild tone, but with a remonstrating look that told her to keep hold of her temper.

“An observation that I came from nowhere,” Rey said tightly.

“All right, Jakku is pretty much nowhere,” Luke immediately conceded. “I thought the same of my old home.” He pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the rain-spattered window that looked over the garden. “In truth, my life wasn’t much different then to what it is now.”

Rey tilted her head. “Tatooine wasn’t different from here?” she asked skeptically.

Luke acknowledged the irony with a breath of laughter. “Well, it was certainly dryer. But the kind of life I lived wasn’t different. I grew up on a farm, tending the land and hoping for a good harvest. Like here. And I thought that my life was hardly a life at all. But I was wrong about that.” He turned back to her. “I had someone to take care of me; you were alone. Mine was a life of labor, but there was still time to rest. And learn, dream, and even hope for more. There couldn’t have been comfort for you.”

Rey’s jaw tightened. “You seem to know a lot about my life.”

Luke stepped toward her. “Well, I may be a ‘strange old hermit’, but news of a Palpatine heir who came from nowhere in Jakku reached me here, too. And no,” he continued gently. “I don’t know ‘a lot’ about your life. I can only surmise from what I know of Jakku, and the hardships you must have endured from living a life alone there.”

“I survived,” Rey spurted out. She didn’t like the reminder of Jakku any more than she did of the Imperial Court.

“Yes, you did,” Luke confirmed. He narrowed his eyes at her. “So it stands to reason that you’re a remarkable person.”

Rey was shocked and annoyed. His compliment, as begrudging as it seemed, wasn’t either what she expected or wanted. So what if Luke was finally deigning to speak to her and acting as though he hadn’t spent the past several days ignoring her? There may be compassion underneath his crusty exterior, but she wouldn’t allow it to pierce through her resentment of being left to herself, or of dashing the image she had built up of the heroic Luke Skywalker in her head. “Or just a good fighter.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Luke mused. Again he drummed his fingers against the desk. “I think there’s something you might be interested in.”

She scowled, but still followed, her curiosity piqued. He led her across the hall into the empty parlor. Rey hadn’t explored this room, having lost interest as it appeared entirely bare at first glance. But as she stepped in, she realized her initial assessment of the spacious room wasn’t entirely accurate. Pushed up against the far wall, bathed in shadow, were a set of locked chests, and it was to these that Luke walked. She vaguely wondered if these chests were where her borrowed wardrobe had come from, but the errant thought disappeared the moment Luke opened the first chest.

A wide array of weapons were contained therein, including the sword that Luke had wielded on that first, tense day. She could see more hilts and hidden scabbards, an assortment of knives, and, not at all to her surprise, a crossbow. Luke pulled out one of the swords, examining it with a scrutinizing eye, and then held it out to her.

Instinctively she grabbed for it, but her astonishment must have shown on her face, as Luke explained, “You said you were a good fighter. It wouldn’t be wise for you to lose your skills just because you’re holed up here. You won’t be here forever, after all. And what else are you going to do once winter sets in?”

Slowly she drew the sword from its scabbard, its blade a little dull in the dim light filtering through the windows. But it was well-balanced, and the hilt was sturdy in her hand. She made a few experimental passes, testing its weight and feel, then quickly spun out into a series of forms that Finn had taught her. The parlor’s barrenness was now explained. What use had Luke for a parlor when nobody ever came here? But it was a passable training room.

She turned back to him with a questioning gaze, to see his own eyes studying her. Was she up to scratch?

“Not bad.” He kept his arms folded, his expression inscrutable. “You’re not totally natural with it, though, are you?”

Rey bristled, instantly offended. “I’ve been working at this for two years!”

He waved his hand. “Yes, yes, you’ve been training with it. And I just said it’s not bad. You’re fairly capable with it, and would be able to defend yourself in a fight. But you wouldn’t win against a skilled opponent. Not decisively. Your body moves in one way, and you have to constantly tell yourself to move another. It’s not intuition. Not yet. You spent a lifetime fighting a different way, honing your body’s instincts toward a different style.”

As he continued to clarify his meaning, Rey clamped down on her emotions. Luke bent down, rummaging through the chest. When he straightened, he was juggling a pair of knives in his hand. He walked over, extending them out to her. “See how those feel.”

Rey took them reluctantly, suspiciously. “I don’t know anything about fighting with knives. I’ve at least been training with the sword.”

Luke took back the sword firmly. “But you’re used to fighting with your fists, being right up against your enemy when you scrap. A knife might be suited to your instincts; it’ll give you closer proximity.”

Rey still made no move to unsheath the knives. “So I should just give up on the sword, then?”

Luke rolled his eyes, a gesture that caught her off-guard. “No. I’m just suggesting you try a different approach and see how it feels.”

“And who’s going to teach me to use them properly?” Rey asked, finally daring to stare back at him as he had to her many times already. He didn’t answer. “Roland?”

He let out a bark of laughter. “Hardly. Roland’s not a fighter, although he is talented at getting himself and others into trouble.”

“So, you?”

Now Luke was the reluctant one. He met her stare, his expression completely devoid of the grumpiness that had until now always been present. Rey thought that he should have foreseen that her request would be a consequence of his unveiling the weapons, but she wisely forebore from voicing it aloud. “I won’t be able to learn if you don’t teach me,” she settled for saying. “And besides,” she lifted an eyebrow, “what else are you going to do when winter sets in?”

Luke barely shifted as she parroted his words. But he muttered, “That was a cheap move.”

Rey smiled. If there was one thing she was learning about this family, it was that they couldn’t resist when their own words were used against them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated the idea of keeping Luke situated on some lonely island, but in the end, I didn't really relish the idea of dealing with the logistics, so this was my solution. (hooray for laziness!) And since the climate and look of Skellig Michael reminded me of the Oregon coastline, with the gray skies, intermittent-to-constant rain, rocky cliffs, and overwhelming green (not to mention the cold cold cold ocean), that was pretty much what was in my head as I reconciled my chosen spot with the movie location. You can take the girl out of Oregon, but you can't take Oregon out of the girl, I guess.
> 
> As for Luke, while I didn't necessarily disagree with his grouchy characterization in The Last Jedi, he's not nearly as cantankerous in this story, though elements of it obviously still remain. Plus, you know, the fact that he's still find-able by those closest to him makes things a tad different.


	13. A Closer Look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey learns both from and about Luke.

Luke was needling her. On purpose. Extremely on purpose. And she was about to explode because of it. Sweat poured off of her, her muscles ached, and she just couldn’t land a hit! On a man at least twice her age, with one working hand, who sequestered himself away in a life of solitude. Somehow he blocked, dodged, and in some cases, merely side-stepped his way out of her path. And then he would get right back in, making her think there was a chance she might beat him this time. But so far, she hadn’t.

Hence the eruption waiting to happen.

At first Rey had enjoyed learning the proper techniques in wielding a knife. And Luke was right; her sparring instincts were better suited to it, giving her the flexibility to maneuver her body in a way that hefting a heavy sword simply didn’t allow. It was also gratifying to be training again. She had grown so used to the daily exercise with Finn that her month-long stay in Aldera had felt downright lazy, however glad she had been to not be on the run. There was something cleansing in working out one’s frustrations in physical exertion. If only she could reach full catharsis by beating Luke in a match.

The only upside was that, for the past week, he no longer landed a hit on her, although she knew he still came close to it. The thick tunics they wore protected themselves from the worst swipes, but she wasn’t eager to give him another chance to pierce the fabric.

She took a deep breath and jumped back into the fray. He batted her arm away with his false hand, taking hold of her other arm with the real one and spinning her away. She shook off the brief dizziness, scowled, and tried again, hoping that her attempt to conceal her lower aim would succeed. He jumped to the side, landing a kick on her rear for good measure as she passed.

That was the final straw. Her eyes blazed and she went on the attack, raising her knife without thought, a primal scream tearing from her throat. What she got for her troubles was being tripped up and falling on her back, her knife clattering onto the floor as she lost her grip.

Above her, Luke panted and heaved, the only balm to her humiliation. He kicked her knife out further, and crouched down beside her.

“Rey,” he murmured between gasps of air, “use your head. You know better than to attack without any thought.”

Rey jerked and turned onto her stomach, pushing herself up onto her hands and knees. She was still too angry to look him in the face.

“I know. You feel like you’re not improving. You’re frustrated and upset. And angry. And then you get more angry at yourself for being angry and making mistakes you know you shouldn’t make.”

He was trying to help, the rational side of her knew, but the continual murmur was just stoking the flames within.

“You’ve got anger. That’s all right. But you must be above it and assert your power. You control the anger; you don’t let it control you.”

She shot out her arm, shoving against Luke’s chest furiously, and he teetered and fell back. He had kicked her knife out of reach, but she could make a grab for his while he was off-balance. But he latched hold of her arm as she dove, managing to keep even her free arm out of reach of his fallen weapon. Quickly she gave up the hope for his knife and flipped away, ignoring the tearing sound of her sleeve as she pulled herself out of his grasp. Hoping that his surprise at her swift turn-around would give her time, she scrambled for her knife. She’d barely touched it before she heard Luke grunting and pulling himself onto his feet. Her fingers closed around the hilt, and she whirled around, arm outstretched, where she immediately halted. Staring at Luke’s dagger pointed directly at her throat.

Knowing that he wouldn’t actually hurt her did nothing to alleviate the tension. She had lost, and his eyes were hard and exasperated at her refusal to listen. But as the moments ticked by, their chests heaving to catch precious air, Luke’s eyes inexplicably widened, and his mouth dropped open in a horrified expression. He retreated by a couple of steps, his hand suddenly shaking violently and dropping his dagger to the floor.

“We’re done for today,” he muttered, and stalked out, leaving Rey to recover alone.

Her breath was loud in her ears, and after giving herself a few moments to breathe slowly, she stood back up, wincing in pain and embarrassment. The red heat of rage had passed, completely extinguished by the horror in Luke’s countenance, and she knew she could have done a better job at actually heeding his advice rather than going on the attack. She rubbed gingerly at her backside, hoping it wouldn’t bruise too badly. She may not be able to see the damage, but she would feel it for ages if it did leave a mark.

Roland hurried into the room, bearing a pitcher, towel, and a large mug. He offered the mug to Rey, who took it gratefully. The cool water was more than welcome, and she felt calmer as she drained it, now taking the towel to mop herself up as Roland refilled the mug. She walked over to the window, studying the trees that grew increasingly barren as their withered leaves carpeted the forest floor. The weather had indeed grown worse in the passing weeks, rain their constant companion. Rey was tempted to go outside, simply stand still, and let the rain soak her clean through, if only it weren’t so cold.

Finally she looked at her torn sleeve, a significant portion of her undershirt revealed by the gaping hole. “I’m sorry, Roland,” she turned to him with a sheepish gesture. “More work for you.”

He shook his head at her, handing her the refilled mug. He was the one who mended the clothes every time a stray swipe of a knife did rip them apart. “No need to apologize, that’s what I’m here for. You’re giving me something to do, my lady.”

“All the same, I should probably mend it myself.”

“Do you know how?” he asked pointedly.

This stopped up Rey’s mouth. When her clothing was damaged in Jakku, she’d taken rudimentary steps to repair it, usually just wrapping it around her more tightly and tying it off with a knot. And somehow, in all her proper etiquette training in Theed, sewing had not been deemed necessary. She stifled a smile at the thought of Hux teaching her to thread a needle; she’d likely have stabbed him with it in the first minute.

“Then I’ll just have to assist you in that,” Roland spoke as though she had answered. He inspected the tear, and said bracingly, “I’ll soon have it fixed right up for you, my lady. It will be my honor.”

Rey fingered the fabric awkwardly. Roland didn’t speak obsequiously, and he had clearly not been afraid to put her to work despite her rank, but every once in a while he still managed an air of deference that made her feel a little guilty at her carelessness.

Roland was walking back to the door now, saying, “As soon as you have changed, just bring it to me and we’ll get you sorted. And don’t you fret about the extra work. It’s better for the mistress’s wardrobe to be used than to just sit forgotten in a hidden trunk.”

_ Mistress? _ Rey’s head shot up. She had wondered at the readiness they were able to supply her with clothing, a couple of serviceable dresses and the gear she trained in, but had dismissed it with the explanation that Roland must have done some extra trading in Ahch-To. But if there had been a mistress of the house . . .

Roland pulled up at the door, suddenly aware of his inadvertent lapse. But although such a slip of the tongue might normally make one tight-lipped, or at least have one asking for assurances from the listener that they speak nothing of what they had heard, Roland did not look entirely regretful. Instead he smiled, a touch of melancholy tinging the corners of his eyes.

“It’s not my place, of course, to tell either you or Master Luke what to do, but it might do you both some good to talk and not just train. He used to talk more; it would be nice to hear him talk again. And you both might learn something of each other.”

Roland’s words echoed in Rey’s head as she changed, and after depositing the shirt into his care, she took herself to the library. It was true that Luke and she had spent little time actually speaking to each other; conversation usually revolved around the fighting techniques she was learning. He was willing to acknowledge her improvements, but it always seemed like they had to be forced out of him. He still had a tendency to react like a hibernating bear when interrupted, which wasn’t inviting for deeper discussion. She had no idea of what the man behind the legend was like. She wasn’t sure it was worth the effort. But she may as well try.

The library was delightfully warm, the roaring fire in the grate doing its part in keeping out the worst of late-autumn chill. Luke had dragged his chair away from its usual spot to sit in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames. In his hand was a small square of parchment, and he twiddled it absently in his fingers.

As usual, he looked up when Rey came in, but said nothing to deter her. She took that as a good sign, and took hold of the other chair, her usual perch, carrying it to place beside him. Still he didn’t stop her. She sat, chewing the inside of her lip, unsure of how to begin without appearing overly inquisitive.

Perhaps an apology was in order, at least. “I’m sorry.” He turned his head mutely. “I stopped listening. I was angry, and I wasn’t thinking, and -”

“Rey,” he interrupted. “Do you think I’m angry at you?”

Her face blanked. His abrupt departure had certainly given that impression.

Luke sighed. “That’s not why I left. I was reminded of something, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Rey said. She pressed her lips together. “But I still wasn’t -”

“You’re right. You weren’t listening. You were angry. I accept your apology,” he interrupted again, with the barest hint of a smile. “But I’ll say it again; I’m not angry at you. I’m surprised and a little disappointed, but not angry.”

“Disappointed?” Rey asked, bewildered.

“Look at me, Rey. I’m not exactly a top physical specimen. And yet you haven’t been able to disarm me.” Rey looked away.

“Bad choice of words?” he asked dryly, but quickly moved ahead. “I told you before I don’t know anything of your life, but I can guess. A life of constant struggle, having to defend yourself countless times to keep what little is yours. And you wouldn’t have been able to survive in Jakku without finding various ways to defend yourself. You couldn’t always rely on brute force; you must have used your brain to think around your enemies. Exploiting weaknesses, knowing when to hide and retreat, and when and where to attack. So why lose that mindset now with me?”

She had a ready answer. “It’s not a fight to the death with you.”

He considered her point. “No. But it’s not right for you to hold back, and it’s not right for you to let anger cloud your judgment.

“You need to remember to be creative, to find another way in. Sometimes the solution to your problem is deceptively simple, or so glaringly obvious that it’s been discounted by everyone else. In a fight, a real fight with real stakes, there aren’t any rules to break, and you’ve got to use your head. I give you permission to beat me. I want you to win, Rey.”

“Like you did,” Rey replied automatically, thinking back to Chewie’s tale of the war, praising Luke’s ability to accomplish Leia’s goals.

Luke’s mouth quirked painfully. “Maybe not exactly like I did. I wouldn’t wish my life on anybody.” He faced the fire again, letting the flickering light dance across his face.

“If you’re unhappy with your life here, why did you ever leave?” Rey asked, finally giving voice to the burning question everyone had about Luke Skywalker.

“What do you think?” he said in answer.

“I don’t know, really. Chewie said you didn’t want a public life. That the war . . . changed you,” she petered off awkwardly. She hoped she hadn’t betrayed Chewie’s confidence by repeating his words.

Luke snorted a little. “The war changed all of us. If that had been my only reason for not staying, that would be a poor excuse, considering everything everyone else went through.”

“But you faced an enemy no one else did,” Rey said.

Luke looked at her sharply. “How diplomatic of you not to speak his name.”

She pursed her lips as her nostrils flared. “I don’t like the name any more than you do.”

He regarded her somberly. “No. You aren’t happy at the connection you have to him, however slight it is.” He sighed. “My wife underwent a similar trial.”

Rey found it surprisingly easy not to react to his disclosure; she was growing used to being unfazed at the revelations the Skywalker family threw at her. And besides, she had the hint of Roland’s slip to prepare herself for the possibility that Luke had been married.

Luke looked at her through lowered eyebrows, as though waiting for a more significant response. When it didn’t come, he went on. “Her name was Mara, and if you think you have a temper, you should have met her. She was a fireball, passionate and outspoken. It wasn’t long after we were married that we left Aldera; she was never truly welcome in Leia’s court. She used to be one of the Emperor’s Hands.”

Rey scrunched her nose in confusion at the name. Was she supposed to know what that meant? Presumably it had something to do with her grandfather.

“An agent of the emperor, a secret operative,” Luke explained gloomily. “She did the dirty work that his armies couldn’t do. She also didn’t rely on brute force to get the job done.”

Reading between the lines, Rey now was truly shocked that Luke Skywalker would make a marriage with such a woman. “And she was your wife?” she asked incredulously.

“Well, not at the same time,” he drawled sarcastically. “We didn’t meet until after the emperor’s . . . defeat,” he seemed to wrestle with that word. “In fact, she came after me to kill me, for being the instrument of his destruction, even though it wasn’t directly by my hand that he fell.”

“She wanted to kill you, and you married her?”

Luke chuckled. “It’s a habit of mine to love my enemies.”

“How? How could you possibly fall in love with someone like that?”

Another sigh. “Some things are private. I’m going to trust that it’s enough to tell you that Mara repented of her crimes and changed. But her past was always right there. Do you know how many times people asked me what you just have? They couldn’t forgive her part in the Empire, not even with Leia’s official pardon. And Mara tried to bear the hatred for my sake. Being in the public eye wasn’t a treat for me, but on my own I could manage. But I couldn’t ask her to endure the constant scrutiny just for me; it broke my heart to see her struggle. I wanted to give her a place she could be safe from the vitriol, and I didn’t want to live without her. So I gave it up.”

“And you came here.”

He shook his head. “Not at first. We lived in a couple of places, trying to find a decent fit. And unsure of how open we should be with our identities. But in the end, leaving the Alderaanian court was the best thing for us.”

“And you have no regrets about cutting yourself off?”

“Leia and Han always knew where to find me,” Luke said. “I couldn’t cut them out of my life any more than I could cut off my other hand.”

That wasn’t an answer. “You said you wouldn’t wish your life on anybody. Does that mean it was a mistake to marry her and disappear?”

“No,” he replied sternly, his blue eyes suddenly icy. “I’m going to say this only once, so listen carefully and remember. It wasn’t a mistake. I don’t regret my life with Mara.”

“Then why -?”

“Other reasons,” he muttered, some of the abrupt harshness dying away. “Some are linked to her, but none of them have to do with our life together.”

Rey said nothing, afraid of vexing him again.

“In the interest of full honesty,” Luke continued, his gentle tone returning, “I may have no regrets, but that doesn’t mean it was always easy. I missed my friends, we missed our freedom, and Mara, well . . .” he trailed off mournfully. “It’s not easy to love someone who hates themself.”

Still Rey said nothing. There was no trace of Mara Skywalker here now; what end had she come to?

“She appreciated and loved me for giving up so much to be with her, but she was always sure I would eventually resent her for it. We would get so angry at each other, me trying to convince her she was worth the sacrifice, and her so tired of me making the same arguments over and over. She couldn’t ever forget the harm she had done, and there were so many times she wouldn’t believe me when I would remind her she had changed. Sometimes we both wanted to toss the other out the window because we were so stubborn about the woman she used to be and the woman she actually was.” He let out a breathy laugh at the recollection.

“It was frustrating, for both of us, when those times came. And we could fight . . . oh, could we fight. But I wasn’t going to fail her by giving up on her. And deep down, no matter how she despised what she used to be, she knew that my love for her was stronger than her past. So she never left me, either, though she would threaten to occasionally with the assertion that I’d be better off.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have been. We were better together than apart.”

The fire was beginning to die, and Luke leaned forward, throwing another log onto it, then taking the poker and stoking the flames back to life. Maybe he thought his story was finished, but Rey hadn’t heard an ending that satisfied her, moved though she was by his constancy.

“Where is Mara now?” she prodded.

He closed his eyes briefly. “She died nine years ago. Caught an infection three years after we came here. She’s buried in the abbey. Under the name ‘Mara Jade’.” His lips puckered and quirked. “And I still won’t leave her. The irony of my life. I spent so much time trying to convince her to let go of her past, and here I sit, clinging to the memory of her, unwilling to leave this place.

“That’s the tragedy of heroes,” he turned back to her. “They can stay heroes as long as you keep your distance. The instant you get closer, the cracks show, and you can see they’re just as fallible and prone to hypocrisy as anybody else.”

Rey chose her words carefully. “There’s nothing wrong with being devoted to the memory of your wife. It’s rather a proof of how much you loved her, isn’t it? Why would you think of it as a flaw?”

He looked at her pityingly. “Devotion and love are divine attributes, Rey, but we weren’t intended to use them as a crutch. If I had been willing to leave, to remember my life with Mara without being mired in it, I could have done more for my family. I could have done better by Ben. Maybe I could have even saved Han. I failed them by clinging to Mara’s memory and ignoring all the other important things in my life.

“That’s why I wouldn’t wish my life on anybody. Not because I failed Mara, but because I failed everybody else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absent-minded-author storytime. It was about two-thirds of the way through writing this chapter that I suddenly had a moment of panic and realized I'd written this chapter and the previous one referring to Luke using both his hands. In a regular Star Wars story, this wouldn't be a problem - thanks, bionic hand! - but this is an alternate universe where that's not an option, and Luke is genuinely one-handed. Oops! So I wrote at the top of both the chapters "LUKE HAS ONE HAND, MEGAN!" to remind myself to change all my references when I came back for more extensive editing and rewriting. Because, of course, keeping that continuity is the most important aspect of this story . . . I laughed at myself for awhile for that mistake, though.


	14. Reflection and Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey figures some things out, about herself, and about what Ben is up to.

Things were very different in the cottage after that conversation with Luke. His willingness to make himself open invited Rey to do the same, though just as Luke admittedly kept certain things to himself, so did she. But they truly began to converse with each other, and slowly he shed his grumpy crust to reveal more of the man she had first heard about. He had a surprising amount of confidence in her, frequently steering conversations into a philosophical prediction of how her experiences would shape her eventual rule, with no doubt that such a future was possible.

There were still long silences in the library, but Rey was no longer aimlessly wandering among the tomes. Luke would plunk a text in front of her, direct her to read, and then leave her alone until she was finished. It was a far different kind of education than she had had with Hux, who minutely controlled which excerpts of which books she should examine, and most of the time he would simply lecture her on what to think of what she read. Luke, by contrast, sought her opinion before sharing his insights. Most of what he set before her were histories and political texts, and she came to understand just how much she had been denied as she learned about the governing bodies of the Nine Realms, their prominent families and histories, and the contrast in governments between nations.

It was an early winter day, one of those days where the rain was mostly sleet, and the air blew bitterly cold, when Luke looked out the library window, let out an audible “Ah!”, and hurried out the door. Rey followed him outside to the pigeon loft, where a harried-looking bird flitted and fluttered, a tiny scroll attached to its leg. Luke took the pigeon into his hands gently, and carefully detached the scroll before handing it to Rey.

“What should I do with this?” she asked in confusion.

“It’s probably for you,” he said simply, guiding the pigeon into the loft with a gentle pat.

Rey blanched at the statement, but unrolled the paper, anyway.

_ Bespin - Yes _

_ Hosnia - Yes _

_ Tatooine - In Talks _

_ Corellia - No _

_ No word yet from the rest _

Rey felt frozen to the spot as she looked at the elegant script that said so much with so few words. She wasn’t entirely sure what to feel at this news. She supposed she should rejoice that two nations had agreed to help her, but not only was that slight relief diminished by Corellia’s rejection, it was difficult to feel that any of this was real while she was hidden from view. She felt like a child playing at a game, and her stomach felt heavy like a great stone had been dropped in it. This was far more than a youthful game, and once more she was sure she was unqualified for the task ahead.

She handed the paper to Luke and walked back into the house without a word. Now it was for him to follow as he examined Leia’s message. She heard him mutter under his breath, “Bespin . . . Lando surely . . . can’t expect much more from . . . probably another month before . . .”

She shook her head furiously as she dropped into her chair in the library.

“Well,” Luke said as he settled in to his seat, “it could be a lot worse. Hosnia’s army may not be numerous, but they’ve got the drive to fight Snoke. Bespin is a valuable ally; you’ll be glad of that if . . .” Luke trailed off when he finally noticed her morose expression. “Rey?”

She sighed. Could he possibly understand how unreal this all was, and how little she deserved it? “Maybe I shouldn’t have ever started this. It would have been better if I’d just stayed a Jakkuvian desert rat, with no expectations or prospects.”

Leia would have probably reacted by firmly protesting her statement. Luke merely asked, “Why do you say that?”

“Look what I’ve begun,” she turned her head to him with another shake. “And look how little I’ve really thought it through. I escaped with Finn, and was happy to do it, and only later began to realize the ramifications.”

“Such as?”

“I underestimated how big it would get. I didn't think that gaining allies and marching back to challenge Snoke was a feat that would rival the scale of the Imperial War. But it is. It has to be, to actually challenge him. And I was naive, to think that anybody I asked for help would leap at the chance, too. I didn’t take into account their own concerns and interests. I didn’t think that Snoke would threaten to strike first before anybody was ready. I didn’t see the impact; all I saw was taking what was mine. And to involve countless numbers of people for that -” her voice cut off as the overwhelming magnitude of it all hit her full-force.

“The longer I stay away,” she continued in nearly a whisper, “the more I think that it wasn’t worth it. That it’s better if I just disappear, because then I won’t be dragging entire countries into war. Isn’t that exactly what’s happened since I came here?” she asked Luke with wide eyes. “Eliminated the threat that they’ll all have to fight for me?”

Luke’s head bobbed from side to side as he said, “Yes. And no. Leia, and other governments, have suspected for a long time that Snoke would wish to reestablish the Empire.”

“I know. And I gave him the excuse to start war, so disappearing has stopped that excuse,” she argued with rising, yet dismal, hope.

“Only partly,” he argued softly. “Remember I told you when you first came here that winter would be a deterrent for him. Even with the armies at his command, he can’t mount a decent attack in the middle of terrible weather.”

Rey deflated. “So I can’t just assume that come spring, he still won’t do anything?”

“Right.”

She stared into the flames, wishing they could give her some answer, or some confidence. “So I’ll still have to fight him,” she muttered dully. “Somehow. If I can.”

Luke was quiet for a few moments, but when he spoke again, his voice was challenging and deliberate. “Why do you want to be a queen?” Once more she whipped around to face him. “It has to be something more than simply wanting to overthrow Snoke.”

Rey shuddered. “No.”

“Then why?”

Rey wanted to retreat from Luke’s stare, but somehow she knew he wouldn’t allow her to escape without answering. Why was it so important? Was it for that same petty reason she had vowed to herself so long ago, to simply be a better ruler than Snoke? Why did she feel so strongly about leading a nation and helping people she had never seen? What did she want out of becoming a queen?

“I want,” she answered hesitatingly, willing her thoughts to become coherent before she spoke them. “I want the people to have a choice. Choices, really. Choices they don’t have now. The very first day I was taken to Theed, I saw beggars in the streets, children with ragged clothes and bones you could see through the skin. What choices will they have, being deliberately kept poor and ignorant? The Gungan villages are constantly being oppressed, and why? Because they have their own history they want to honor? Their choices are being taken away. And how has Snoke amassed his giant army? By taxing the people to within an inch of their lives, so that countless numbers of children think they have no choice but to join his army so their families will have a chance to survive.

“And me,” she said, her voice now strong with muted anger. “He took away my choices. He trapped me in that palace, strapping me with a name that I hate, telling me only what he wanted me to know. Somehow he thought that would make me blind to everything else. That I would really believe I was mere decoration, a name to flaunt and make his own and not pay any attention when I was paraded about.”

“But you didn’t become what he wanted you to be,” Luke observed with a hint of a smile.

She shook her head. “No. I listened. I saw, even from my room, I saw what he did. The wrongs he perpetrates, and the lives he destroys. And I won’t let him do it anymore.” She nearly choked as the realization hit her. “I have a choice. And no matter my name, I want to build a legacy I am proud of, that my people can be proud of.”

Luke lifted his head a little, that faint smile still apparent, and with a daring look in his eyes “So, which is it? Do you think it would be better for you to stay a Jakkuvian desert rat, or do you want to be a queen?”

Rey took a fortifying breath. “I want to be a queen.” Once and for all, this was her choice, and she would not turn back from it.

“Good,” he said shortly, and stood up to walk around his desk to her. “So no more talk of thinking everyone would be better off without you.”

And he plopped another book onto her lap.

* * *

Luke’s unconventional “lessons” were not confined to the library. Meals became a bizarre source of enlightenment, food a natural source of cheer to them all, which had the effect of loosening their tongues. Rey was given a deeper look into the spiritual side of this man that Chewie had warned her about. She hadn’t been terribly eager to listen to scriptural piety, what with the tutoring she had received from a supposed holy man, and she had bluntly told Luke that he could leave religion at the door. It was not that Rey was without faith herself, but she had too many other things to be thinking about to really consider the extent of her beliefs. Maybe she would have the chance once all this blasted mess was over.

Bolstered by a good meal and nursing some of Roland’s home-brewed ale, Rey exposed a few embarrassing secrets about herself that she never meant to. Her curiosity over her parents, the way her imagination sustained her on lonely nights in Jakku, the heroic stories she clung to. Luke had betrayed a hint of a blush on the last subject, considering he featured prominently in those tales. Rey supposed she had better lay off the drink if it had such an effect on her, but every once in a while, she still couldn’t resist Roland’s beseeching face.

Her most mortifying slip came after a hard day’s training and study had led her to down nearly two mugs of ale, and, teetering on the edge of inebriation, she pondered aloud if the Sisters of the Jedha Order ever lusted after Luke when he worked alongside them. The tray Roland carried went clattering to the floor, and Rey’s face turned beet-red as she realized what she had said, which was not helped by the delayed, and then incessant, laugh that erupted from Luke. She spluttered as she tried to walk back on her statement, apologizing for her disrespect and declaring she was sure they were above such feelings and would be ashamed to admit them.

Luke’s eyes, which had been watering in humor, immediately sobered when she said that. “Above such feelings?” he repeated. “So you think lust and desire are base and low, is that it?”

Rey didn’t quite know how to answer this question. Her views on romance were in private upheaval, especially when it came to her daydreams about Ben Solo, but she could not admit that to his uncle. She tried to explain, in general terms, what she had observed and thought throughout her life, and she didn’t dare being more specific.

What followed was a surprisingly serious discussion, as Luke, anxious to avoid specifics himself, lectured and instructed her about the importance of balance, that appetites and emotions in and of themselves weren’t inherently evil, and it was “vitally important” that Rey understood that.

“The only danger is when you overindulge and can think of nothing beyond that desire. If you become so single-minded in your pursuit of bodily pleasure, you could easily become consumed by lust, and eventually not even care how you use or hurt others as you search for satisfaction.”

“Like when you told me that it was all right to be angry, but I had to be the one to control it, not let it control me,” Rey recalled.

“Exactly,” Luke replied. “So much is dependent on us finding balance as we exercise our instincts. God created our bodies and passions, but He also gave us intellect so we knew how to use them righteously.” He paused, then continued with a wry smile. “I’m sorry, I know you told me to keep God out of our discussions. I can’t help it sometimes; my education and beliefs are strongly shaped by the priests who taught me.”

This wasn’t the first time his views came out during their talks, and Rey hadn’t really been bothered when they had, anyway, despite her request. Luke spoke so reasonably that sometimes Rey found they were in the middle of a spiritual discussion before she realized it; his theology sounded nothing like the tedious repetitions of scripture Hux had spouted, though they were based in the same faith. But it was the first time Luke had ever apologized for the lapse.

“It’s all right; I don’t mind as much as I thought I would. Father Kenobi sounds like a far better teacher than Hux ever was.”

“He was a great man. I wanted to follow in his footsteps in many ways.”

“But not to become a priest yourself.”

“No,” he said with half a grin, “The older I got, the more I saw that I couldn’t live as they did, with rigid vows and denying natural impulses. I just couldn’t make the same commitment.” Another pause, and he lowered his eyes to the floor, though Rey could see he was holding back a laugh. “I knew I wanted to lie with a woman.”

Again, Rey felt her face grow hot amid Luke’s laughter.

He held up his hands, real and false, in apology. “I’m sorry, Rey; I shouldn’t laugh at you. But the way you blush, it almost makes me think I’ve been lewd and coarse. And it’s such a stark contrast to the way Han would tease me. He said I was downright prudish when it came to women. For that reason alone, he supported my marrying Mara. It meant I wasn’t so stupid as to take a vow of celibacy.”

Her blush receded at Luke’s mention of his wife. It had been over a month since he had first told Rey about her, and although he didn’t avoid the topic, her name was still a rarity. So perhaps it was natural that Rey didn’t find a correlation between their mutual situations until now. Luke had said others questioned his choice, and she imagined if anyone knew about her secret attraction to the former Kylo Ren, she would be bombarded with the same questions. In fact, she had those questions for herself still.

“Rey?” Luke’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Are you all right?”

She shook herself out of her reverie, and looked back at him. “I’m fine,” she replied quietly.

He gave her a rueful smile. “I know, it’s probably not your primary goal in life to converse about religion, morality, and the evils of fornication with a crippled hermit.”

She smiled gently in return. “No, that’s not it. I was wondering . . . what if you’re attracted to the wrong person?”

“Who’s the wrong person?” he immediately asked, and she stiffened in response. Luke shook his head and arms quickly, waving off a need for a reply. “Never mind, I don’t need to know. Let me just . . .” His mouth puckered pensively. “You ask me this because of Mara?”

She nodded mutely. His surmise wasn’t wrong, just incomplete.

“Attraction in general,” he said slowly, “isn’t really something we control. There are many people who you will like to look at. But acting on that attraction, lingering on it, feeding it into real affection -- you  _ can _ control that. In my case, I had to be sure of who Mara really was. I was with her on her journey, and I was certainly interested in her . . . person,” he spoke diplomatically, though it still triggered a light blush from Rey. “But I didn’t act on it, not until I knew who she was. But I also knew I couldn’t write her off as the wrong person before then.

“You’ve already figured this out, Rey, that people aren’t all good or all bad. Choices they make and paths they follow can be, but very few individuals are wholly pure or wholly evil. You must use both judgment and compassion to discern a person’s character, to know who they really are. Be sure of that before you decide whether to act on your attraction, before you cast that person as right or wrong.”

* * *

Winter in Theed had been nothing like Jakku, with heavy, wet snow and freezing rain. Jakku’s winters hardly merited the name; in fact, Rey longed for that cooler season which was pleasantly warm rather than unbearably sweltering. Different still was winter in a coastal climate. There was very little snow, only rain that nearly threatened to  _ become _ snow in the next instant, wind whistling through the trees, and wet air that cut into one’s skin. And because they were ensconced in a thick cluster of forest, even the glittering sunny days were shadowed by bare branches and tall green pines surrounding the cottage.

Rey’s life became a surreal routine, training her mind and body, and exchanging ideas by fire and candlelight. She had finally beaten Luke several times with the knife, the most notable victory being when she effectively nailed his false hand to the wall with her dagger, pinning him in place while she got hold of his weapon. He’d been shocked, and then amusingly pleased. And then he’d made her pick up the sword again. Her work was never done, it seemed.

Slowly but surely she could sense Luke’s burgeoning, if begrudging, affection for her. And, if pressed, she could admit the same feelings toward him. She thought that maybe this was what it was like to have a father, or at least a grumpy old uncle. And with Roland in the contrasting part of a  _ jolly _ old uncle, there were times she could completely forget the strife of reality, and bask in the coziness of a simple life, pretending they were a family. As the weeks passed, she clung to this feeling, knowing it would not last.

A dreadful, three-days-long storm had just passed when another message arrived from Leia, but this one was directed to Luke, and he did not show Rey its contents. His reaction to it spurred on her curiosity, for he immediately withdrew, not to the library, but to his own chambers abovestairs. She waited for him to appear for training, but he did not come down. Roland took him his midday meal, but was denied entrance. If Luke thought he was putting her off by his mysterious behavior, he was dead wrong.

Rey and Roland were in the kitchen at about mid-afternoon when Luke did reappear. His body was hunched and his face was inscrutable, although not unkind or angry. Beckoning with his hand, he said quietly, “Rey, I’d like to speak to you,” and then turned toward the library.

When Rey entered the library, Luke was already seated, his gaze vacant, his fingers drumming on the top of his desk. She sat down in trepidation; whatever it was Luke wished to speak about, it was weighty. What had Leia said?

Luke shifted his head around once Rey was settled. “I’m surprised you haven’t been knocking my door down, demanding to know what’s going on.”

Rey pressed her lips together anxiously. “It might not have had anything to do with me.”

He snorted. “Of course it did. How could it not in such times as these?”

Rey bowed her head, afraid of what ominous report Luke had to give her.

“Leia reminded me,” Luke said carefully, “of something that you deserve to know. Something we’ve both suspected for many years, but could be nothing. But whether we are right or not, you should know about the possibility. Leia wasn’t sure she should say anything when you were in Aldera; there were already so many things you were learning. And I . . . well, it’s too late for regrets. But you need to know before anything else happens.”

Rey felt her chest constricting. What terrible information had the siblings been keeping from her?

“First, though . . .” Luke slid a stack of worn parchment across the table, which Rey took.

She glanced over the first page, a letter in an unknown hand, one which testified of the marriage between an Edwin Wescotte and Reina Fenne some twenty-five years earlier. She scrunched her eyebrows in confusion, and looked up at Luke in silent entreaty.

“Did you ever know your father’s name, Rey?” he asked gently, his eyes focused and serious.

Her own eyes widened in comprehension, and her chest immediately began to heave in emotion. She immediately looked back down, hungrily searching for where those names were written, a lifeline to a past that was directly linked to hers. Edwin Wescotte. Reina Fenne. Her . . . She swallowed. Did she dare even think the word in her mind?

“His birth name was Gudmund, but hardly anybody knew that even before he was exiled,” Luke said quietly as she read the letter more closely. “And clearly, he wanted no more to do with the Palpatine name than you do. He probably took on many names to disappear once he was directly away from his father’s grasp. It was difficult enough to track down this much. But as far as I could find, that is your mother’s true name.”

_ Gudmund. Reina. Rei. Rey.  _ “How did you -?” she couldn’t finish her question; she was too deeply affected.

“Mara and I tried settling in Tatooine for a while, to see if my old home would be the place for us. In the end, it wasn’t, but we had years of curiosity to satisfy while we were there. Mara was especially inquisitive after the emperor’s defeat, before her conversion. She wanted to know if it was possible to restore a Palpatine to the throne. That curiosity never went away, although her wishes for it altered. When we came to Tatooine and were so close to Jakku, which was where your father was rumored to be, we couldn’t resist the odd excursion. It took some digging to find his trail and movements, but we found the marriage records in a town called Niima. Does that sound at all familiar to you?”

“No.”

“It was clear the rumors of his ill health were based on lies; he wouldn’t have hidden so well if he’d been an invalid. He was obviously still alive when we were first looking for him, because you were born after we gave up the search. But everything we found supported the assumption that he was sent away because he opposed his father and the Empire. Palpatine would have been desperate to keep that knowledge suppressed. His son even made it easier on him by disappearing and taking a different name before the Empire fell.”

“And the emperor made everyone believe he was dead,” Rey said, half to herself.

Luke nodded. “We kept searching for them once we found the proof of marriage, but most likely your parents changed their names again after they were married. I don’t know what name you were born under, Rey, or if you were born in Jakku, or when either of your parents died. I’m sorry. That letter is the last of the trail I ever discovered.”

Rey shook her head in wonder. Even to know this much was incredible. “And he was unhappy being a Palpatine, just like me.”

“Yes. He probably wanted to protect himself from enemies of the Empire, but he also wanted to hide away from anybody who would bring him back to Naboo and keep the Palpatine line going.”

She scowled. “Like Snoke did to me.”

“Right.”

Disgusted fury filled her suddenly at the thought of her grandfather. What kind of life could her parents have had, could  _ she _ have had, if his foul presence didn’t loom over them? “Why would anybody want the emperor back, in any way?” she asked bitterly.

“I don’t know,” Luke sighed.

She looked up, her eyes hard. “You met him. You saw him. There wasn’t anything good about him, was there?”

“Rey,” Luke said gently. “You need to understand something about that day, that fight. I don’t like to talk about it; it’s too painful.” Unconsciously he reached for his injured arm, his good hand gripping the place where the false hand met flesh. “Personal. But what you need to know is that I was entirely focused on saving my father, Anakin. Vader. Whatever you want to call him. I believed it was possible for him to attain redemption, and bringing him back to the light meant separating him from Palpatine. So that’s how I perceived the emperor, as a stumbling block to be removed so I could save my father.”

Rey could understand that desire. Even though it was no longer possible for her, she would have been just as determined to save her father from the Dread Emperor.

Again Luke sighed. “Leia considered it differently; her political upbringing clashed with my religious bent and she had different priorities. Leia’s preoccupation was with the emperor, to be certain that the political bonds of the Empire were broken completely. She would have made absolutely certain he was really dead and burned, whereas I forgot about him the instant my father threw him over that cliff.”

He paused. And looked Rey dead in the eye. “Anybody would have assumed he was dead, as I did.”

A ripple of fear coursed through her. “Assumed?” she stammered, clutching the pile of parchment with trembling fingers. “Wasn’t he?”

“For years we believed he was, with no doubt at all,” Luke said quietly. “Everyone was focused on rebuilding their own countries, and because nobody ever confirmed otherwise, the emperor was truly believed to be gone.”

It couldn’t be. What Luke was suggesting, it couldn’t be true. “Luke,” Rey pleaded, silently begging for him to give her better assurances.

“This is what Leia’s message was about. What you deserved to know.”

“You wanted to tell me that my grandfather is still alive?” she exclaimed in horror, leaping out of her chair.

“We don’t really know,” Luke managed to say calmly, gesturing for her to sit back down. She did so, only reluctantly. How could anybody sit after hearing such terrible news?

“He could be dead, just as we first thought. But because his body was never located, we cannot discredit the possibility that he did survive his fall.”

Only now did Rey remember that whenever Luke, Leia, or even Chewie mentioned the emperor, they never used any variation of the word “dead”. They had only ever said that he was defeated. She swallowed, trying to rid herself of the ill feeling that overcame her.

“One of his followers could have found him, hidden him away, and taken advantage of the assumption that for years we didn’t doubt.”

“Snoke,” she said sourly.

Luke nodded again, confirming her guess. He proceeded cautiously. “Did you ever wonder why Snoke never was named king? Why would a man so obsessed with power be content with the title of Lord Protector?”

She voiced aloud her own puzzling question that she had speculated on so many times, not meeting Luke’s eyes. “And why wouldn’t he have just had me killed? That hasn’t made sense to me for a long time.”

Luke acknowledged her question with a grim incline of his head. “No matter what kind of monster Palpatine was, he wouldn’t take kindly to the news that his granddaughter was disposed of. His son opposed him, and he still never had him killed. Only exiled.

“But Snoke’s behavior, while not confirming anything, is suspicious. His plan to wed you would strengthen his claim to the throne on the basis of your lineage alone if the emperor is dead, or to bind himself more strongly to the man he emulates if the emperor lives. Again, this is all conjecture. The emperor could have died that day, as we believed for so long.”

Finally there was silence. Rey still kept her eyes averted from Luke as she took in this appalling possibility. Why couldn’t he have just told her about her parents and been done? Why spoil this precious knowledge with ghastly conjecture?

“I’m sorry. I should have told you long before now,” Luke spoke regretfully. “We all should have.”

“Why didn’t you?” Still her eyes burned an invisible hole in the floor, pain prickling and scorching behind her eyelids.

“I didn’t want to add to your burdens,” he replied in a tone that suggested that even he thought that was an inadequate explanation. “Especially if the worry is for nothing.”

A hint of a memory floated into her mind at Luke’s statement. The words weren’t the same, but the sentiment was similar . . .  _ In case I’m wrong. _ She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember, pushing aside every horrified, resentful, angry feeling that was contending for dominance. She wanted a clear head to remember the exact words.

_ Are you going to tell me what it is? _

_ No. In case I’m wrong. _

Luke and Leia weren’t the only ones to delay this particular revelation, were they? A fiery light kindled within her as she searched through fact and supposition, seeking the answer she suspected. “Is there no way to confirm it absolutely?” she asked, her voice suddenly breathless, her body tense and rigid with anticipation.

Luke didn’t note the change in her. “None except scouring every inch of every land. My instinct says that if he is alive, he’s somewhere in Naboo, but it would still take a long time to search just your country. The person best qualified to find out -”

“Did Ben know?” she interrupted fiercely, lifting her blazing eyes to meet Luke’s.

He jerked, stunned. “What?”

“Ben,” she repeated. “Did he know that it was a possibility?” Her question was met with nothing, a clear unwillingness in Luke to discuss his nephew.

“You never talk about him,” she pushed. “And I’ve respected your silence, though you must have known I was curious. I need to know.”

Still nothing.

“You owe me,” she said forcefully, not caring if she offended him.

Finally, Luke responded. “Yes, he did. He used to speak about it as though it was a certainty.” At last Luke registered the subdued excitement in Rey’s body, and he rushed ahead. “That could have been because of his correspondence with Snoke, I don’t know. I only found the letters they exchanged; I didn’t read them. If he had further knowledge beyond the speculation we entertained, I never found out.”

His head tipped back suddenly, as though struck. “You don’t think he’s looking for . . .” he trailed off, his voice full to the brim with astonishment.

“That’s exactly what I think,” Rey declared confidently.

If she was ever certain of anything, it was this. She had discovered Ben Solo’s secret mission.


	15. The Prodigal's Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A familiar face returns, and Rey has a frightening prospect ahead of her.

Spring was still far away, but Rey began to suspect the coldest part of winter was behind them. It certainly felt long enough in this strange isolation. And while she was grateful for the lessons she learned, anxiety and restlessness dominated her feelings. She and Luke discussed the possibilities of what she might do and where she might go once the weather turned fine, but there was as yet no conclusive solution. What they knew for certain was her time in his home was nearing its necessary end.

The restless fear in her was glad to potentially be on the move and work toward her return to Naboo. But there was a part of her that was sorrowful at the thought of parting. Luke, for all his gruffness, had opened up discoveries that she had considered locked tight. Again and again, she pored over the information he had gathered about her parents, the aliases that he had been able to decipher and the probable ways her father had lived before meeting her mother. There was little more than bare fact, and sometimes not even that, but her parents had never been more alive to her than now. Perhaps one day she might be able to find more, and the hope this brought her was a soothing balm amid the doubt surrounding Luke’s confession about her grandfather.

Luke had been disbelieving about her theory of what Ben Solo was up to, at first. But Rey was so determinedly adamant in her arguments, he eventually had to concede. He still wouldn’t speak very much about his nephew, but he did admit that Ben had been unnaturally fascinated by the emperor. This fascination was likely fed by his frustrations with government procedure in Aldera, which had probably made him susceptible to Snoke’s influence.

“I didn’t do a very good job with him,” Luke reflected sadly. “I was afraid of pushing him away if I challenged his views too harshly. Leia had been sure that was what made him stop speaking to her. I thought if I gave him room to breathe, his focus on the Empire would eventually subside. I didn’t tell him enough, do enough to persuade him . . .” He shook his head.

“He was sure that because his grandfather served the Empire for so long that there must have been some merit to it, setting aside all the evils the emperor perpetrated. The fact that Anakin turned at the end was something Ben could wave away. Far too easily. I was afraid that he could think that way, but I didn’t tell him enough about his grandfather to change his mind. Leia hadn’t said a word to him, either.

“Leia never talked about our father to anybody; to her, he was always Vader. She’d seen closehand what he did in his service to the Empire and couldn’t separate that from the man he died as. She fought me hard when I told her I was going to turn myself over to him. But because I was with him when he turned against Palpatine, when he died with my mother’s name on his lips, I didn’t find it so impossible to forgive him. I think Leia still struggles to do so. She might struggle with that all her life.”

“She’s forgiven Ben,” Rey pointed out. “I know she has.”

Luke’s lip curled in a sad smile. “She sees him as her son first. In fact, she might not see Kylo Ren at all when she thinks of him.”

“And you?” Rey asked. “What do you see first? Ben Solo or Kylo Ren?”

Luke’s gaze faltered, but he didn’t hesitate to answer. “I see the boy I failed.”

_ By trying to kill him? _ she nearly quipped, but stopped herself just in time. The Luke she had grown so fond of didn’t seem the murderous type, and besides, Ben himself had said he’d tried to return the favor. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the whole story.

It didn’t stop her from dwelling on the possible scenarios every once in a while, though, as she did one afternoon she was digging in the hard soil in Luke’s garden. It was still too early for planting, but she thought she might loosen up the ground to pass the time and release some pent-up anxiety. Roland and Luke had left that morning for Ahch-To. There was sickness going through the community, and Luke had some knowledge of healing herbs, which he took with him to assist the abbey sisters that day. They had said they would be back in time for Roland to prepare supper, which meant they could return any moment.

In any case, she was ready to go back inside. The apron pinned to her work dress was soaked and mud-streaked, and the dress underneath was growing damp and cold on her knees. With a breathy grunt, she pushed herself to her feet, and swiped away the straggling hair that hung in front of her face with one hand. She felt the dirt track across her nose as she did so, and had to refrain from wiping at it, lest she make her face even more of a mess.

A crackle of dead branches echoed through the trees, and she turned expectantly. But neither Luke nor Roland appeared. An uneasy feeling pricked at her, and she told herself not to jump to conclusions.  _ Just an animal. That’s all. Nothing to fear. _ All the same, she reached into her apron pocket to finger the knife she had hidden inside. Her eyes darted to and fro suspiciously, but nothing seemed out of place, and the air was quiet.

She opened her mouth, tempted to call out Luke’s name, just in case they had indeed returned and were simply farther away than the cracks had sounded. But, although she was allowed outside the cottage, making any excessive noise was unwise. She stepped back toward the door slowly, still looking around and straining her ears for any untoward movement among the trees.

Nothing but the sound of her quickening breaths. She felt the door at her back. She turned to grab the handle.

A quiet crunch, and she whirled, wildly launching the knife in its direction. It lodged, though shallowly, in the thin bark of one of the bare trees. Nowhere near the man who emerged from behind the thicker cover of the pines. Rey gasped, her breath stolen from her, and she dropped the spade she had been clutching.

“Ben,” she whispered.

He approached slowly, his expression wary. Rey squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, sure that this must be some hallucination. She couldn’t have possibly conjured him by thought alone. But when she opened her eyes again, he was still there, examining the place where her knife struck the tree. Was there a hint of a smirk on his face as he pulled it out?

He studied it briefly, then looked directly at her. She was too stunned by his appearance to speak. Any moment now and he would vanish. Wouldn’t he? And if he didn’t, what then? She longed to say something, but was at a loss of what she could possibly say.

“I see Skywalker has been teaching you,” he observed with a dangerous glint in his eye. He held the knife out, taking a couple of steps toward her. “Though it seems his lessons haven’t extended to actually throwing them.”

Rey let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. He was real. And already bordering on flippant. She stared openly at him even as she began to close the gap between them; she couldn’t look away. As she came closer, the glint in his eye faded, though he still matched her stare intently.

She felt for the knife rather than looking at it as she took it back. The stubble on his face had grown, though it was trimmed. His green cloak was travel-worn, his boots caked with mud. His eyes were lined with dark circles; he must have been exhausted. Yet he stood ramrod-straight as she studied him.

“What,” she breathed, then gulped, and tried again. “What are you doing here? How . . .”

A corner of his upper lip lifted. “I told you I didn’t need to follow you. I knew how to find Luke’s home.”

Her shoulders shook a little, startling her out of her daze. “No, I know,” she stammered. “I mean, I know you know where . . .” She huffed, hating how foolish she sounded. Months had passed since she last saw him, and she couldn’t manage a few coherent sentences? “I know you’ve been here before. I just didn’t expect to see you.”

His face was stern. “I told you that night. That you’d see me again.”

“I know,” she hastened to say. She had not forgotten that promise. “But I didn’t think it would be . . . here.”

His chin rose slightly. “Where did you think it would be?”

She tried to keep her eyes from bulging and her cheeks from reddening. She had imagined many places where she would see him again, but nowhere in her imagining had she considered this isolated cottage, with her bedraggled hair and muddy clothes, as a meeting spot. It was certainly not romantic. But she couldn’t confide in him any of the other scenarios she had ruminated on; it veered too closely to confessing everything she’d been thinking concerning him.

His eyes explored her face as she grappled within herself, but at her prolonged silence, he seemed resigned that she wouldn’t answer. He looked from side to side, searching the scenery. “I suppose Luke’s inside.”

“No,” she grasped onto his words. “He’s in the village with Roland. But I expect them back any moment.”

His full lips pursed in thought. “Then I’d better make myself scarce before they come back. It wouldn’t be a joyous family reunion.”

_ No! _ Rey wanted to exclaim. Not even five minutes and he was already leaving? She was about to protest when he went on.

“But I’ll come back tonight. I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

Her relief was dampened by the seriousness of his tone. It could be about only one thing.

“Have you found him, then?” she blurted out.

His head jerked as he blinked, but he hardly moved. “You know?”

“I . . . guessed,” she admitted. “But it was an educated guess.”

He exhaled shortly, his lips quirked up. He looked almost impressed. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” he muttered. “But now isn’t the time to discuss it. When you’re sure they’re asleep tonight, light a candle in the kitchen. I’ll come to you then.”

Rey felt a delightful shiver run through her, completely at odds with the matter at hand. But to make plans like this, meeting for a secret rendezvous, sparked a completely inconvenient feeling within her. She nodded her assent.

He nodded in response, then spoke again, effectively ruining the secret mood she’d been contemplating. “And have some food ready. I’m starving.”

With that, he backed away, occasionally glancing from side to side. When he reached the pine trees again, he turned and walked beyond them. Within moments Rey could neither hear nor see him.

* * *

Trying to maintain an air of calm during the course of the evening was incredibly draining. Though they didn’t engage in lively discussion every night, usually she contributed something more substantial to the dinner conversation with Luke. But every moment she was afraid she would let something slip about his nephew’s presence, and she kept her mouth shut more often than not. She could hardly eat; her stomach was tied up in knots.

The rational part of her mind told her that her behavior was out of character, but she didn’t know how to act differently. Roland was at first afraid that she had caught the illness in the village, but Luke quickly negated that fear, reasoning that Rey was not in contact with anyone beside the two of them.

_ And Ben now. _ She attempted a smile to Roland, who patted her hand gently with the admonition that she tell him the moment she felt unwell. She thought it would be best not to follow this advice. The roiling in her stomach could not be explained by a fever or sickness. And to confess its cause would be disastrous.

She retired to her room earlier than usual, breathing out a slow sigh of relief once she had closed the door behind her. Now all she had to do was wait without the stress of curious eyes watching her. She lay down on her bed, then quickly sat up. She couldn’t risk falling asleep, though the nervous excitement she felt made that an unlikely possibility. But she wouldn’t take any chances. The seconds ticked by all too slowly.

At long last she heard Luke and Roland come up the stairs, bid each other good night, and enclose themselves within their own chambers. She had no idea of the men’s sleeping habits (at least of Luke’s -- Roland’s snores were hard to miss), and she had to force herself to stay put long enough that they might actually be asleep when she did finally creep down the stairs. It took some effort not to immediately leap off the bed.

It might have been an hour since the doors had closed, maybe more, when Rey tiptoed out of her room, cursing the creaks of the floor underneath her feet. How she made it down the stairs, she wasn’t sure. The hallway was especially dark, and she had to feel her way along the wall. The kitchen was a shade brighter thanks to the windows, but it was still a struggle finding a match to light the candle that rested atop the table.

The candle being lit, she made a quick raid of the pantry, setting a loaf of bread with some dried fruit and cheese on a wooden plank. After setting the food and a mug of water on the table, she took a seat, twisting her hands together anxiously. How long would she be kept waiting? Would they be caught? And what did Ben have to tell her of the emperor?

Mercifully, he appeared after only a few minutes. His soft tap at the window startled her, and viewing his face through the murky window was more than a little eerie, but at least he arrived quickly. He jerked his head to the side before Rey came too near the window, which she took as a sign to open the front door. She grabbed the candle and swiftly made her way there. The stillness of the cottage felt dream-like, and she closed her eyes briefly before opening the door, hoping desperately that his presence was not some elaborate flight of fancy on her part.

He wasted no time when she opened the door, swishing past her like a hulking shadow. The boots she expected to hear clomping made hardly any noise at all, and though she had been the one residing in Luke’s home the past several months, it was Ben that led her back to the kitchen with the authority of one long acquainted with the dwelling.

Ben didn’t wait to sit before tearing into the bread with his teeth. He took enormous bites of the food laid before him with no attempt at manners, chewing and swallowing quickly. He drank deeply out of the mug, filled it again from the jug sitting at the preparation board, and returned to the table, finally sitting across from her.

The relative mundaneness of his actions banished any lingering feelings of a dream state in Rey. Never in her imagination had she given any time to tedious activities such as feeding and watering. No, he must be real. Ben Solo was really sitting across the table from her, his dark hair constantly falling into his eyes, wiping droplets of water from his lips with his sleeve.

“You look well,” he said shortly, his mouth moving in that odd way when one had to expel the remaining bits of food from their teeth. Before Rey could answer, he winced. “Well treated, that is. Skywalker’s been a decent host, I gather.”

“Yes,” she replied quietly. “I don’t think anybody could be badly treated with Roland here.”

His eyebrow lifted quickly in apparent agreement. “Roland the Second takes delight in serving everybody. He’s been around longer than anybody can remember.”

Rey managed a small smile. “I’m very fond of him.”

“It’s hard not to be,” he agreed, but with a pained scowl. “Skywalker, on the other hand -”

“Luke has been good to me,” Rey interrupted. “More than I had reason to expect.”

Ben looked at her through hooded eyes; the scowl hadn’t budged. “No murder attempts?”

Rey shifted about uncomfortably in her chair. “No.”

“He must be slipping.”

Rey’s nostrils flared. “I don’t know what happened between you two. He hasn’t told me and I haven’t asked. But I don’t think you’re here to stir up old grievances against your uncle. And you can’t expect me to sympathize with you when you haven’t told me anything about it, either, beyond saying that you tried to kill him, too.”

Ben’s head tipped back at her remonstrance, and for a few seconds was silent. Rey’s throat immediately felt dry, and she swallowed awkwardly. She hadn’t meant to lecture him, and in the dim light, she couldn’t tell if he was angry, reproachful, or regretful. But she bit back the apology that sprang to her lips. She couldn’t take sides until she knew the whole story, and until she knew the whole story, she didn’t want to hear Ben’s complaints.

(And in a fierce, righteous sort of secondary realization, she was glad to know that her interest in Ben Solo hadn’t made her completely abandon reason at the mere sight of him. That would have been too humiliating to be such a weakling.)

“All right,” he said softly, though without any gentleness. “To business, then.”

He ran a hand through his hair, which did little to keep it permanently out of his face, but did something strange to Rey’s insides. Perhaps she had privately rejoiced in her fortitude too soon. Unconsciously she copied him, running her fingers through her hair slowly and nervously. He watched her without speaking until she folded her arms awkwardly, attempting to appear composed.

“You know who I was looking for?” he murmured, shoulders hunched forward.

“Yes,” she replied, her miniscule calm flitting away as his voice resonated through her body.

“You know why?”

She hesitated. “You said it might be a way to help me reduce bloodshed.” Beyond that she hadn’t given it much thought.

“Do you know how finding him might make that possible?”

She shrugged.

He sat back with a sigh. “Whatever Palpatine was, he felt strong ties to his family, few in number though they may have been. He wanted to be certain his dynasty was strongly established, which meant the only time he hesitated to order someone’s death, it was a family member.”

“Like his son,” Rey muttered.

Ben nodded shortly. “Knowing this about him, it’s not a stretch to assume that his protective instinct would extend to you. If he were alive, at least.”

“Is he?” Rey asked. She had a feeling Ben had more to share before giving her the definitive answer, but she had to know. What was the point, otherwise?

He stared her down, as though reluctant to speak. “I’m certain he is.”

Her stomach dropped out of her body, and her shoulders slumped. Snoke was hard enough to deal with, but the Dread Emperor on top of that? He was an insurmountable threat.

“But this shouldn’t be something that worries you,” Ben leaned across the table, his expression fierce. “You have his protection as his granddaughter.”

“That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want me to continue his ‘dynasty’, as you call it. Whatever Snoke’s plans are, we don’t know that the emperor doesn’t approve of them. He could  _ want _ me to . . .” She couldn’t speak the disgusting words. To imagine that anybody approved of the idea of her being Snoke’s wife made her want to retch.

“What if there’s a possibility that he doesn’t?” Ben asked quietly, though his voice thundered in her ears. “He wants  _ his _ dynasty to last, the Palpatine dynasty. Snoke, even if his plans for you had come to pass,” -- thankfully, he didn’t speak the word “marriage”, either -- “still is not a Palpatine. He could ingratiate himself with the emperor and associate himself with the name, but he still wouldn’t be one. Who do you think the emperor wants as his successor -- Snoke or the one who carries his bloodline?”

His eyes bored into hers, and a strange pressure rose within her chest. Was it something like hope?

“Snoke clearly still fears him; otherwise, you would have been long dead,” Ben continued, his eyes ablaze with fierce heat. “If the emperor orders him to step down, he’ll do it.”

Rey trembled, fear catching in her throat, even as that hopeful thrill took root in her body. “Why would the emperor order him to step down? Snoke wants to restore the Empire. Wouldn’t Palpatine -” she choked at the name, hating that there was no other way to refer to him without recalling her connection to him.

Ben’s hands twitched on the table, as though he was struggling to know what to do with them. “You can convince him.”

Her eyes widened. Surely not! She had no desire to speak to that faceless horror, and she couldn’t possibly have any influence over him, grandfather though he may be.

Ben leaned in even further. “Your Highness, you want to be queen. You  _ are _ a queen, but Snoke, in his idiocy, has kept that from you. How would Palptatine feel, knowing Snoke stood in the way of  _ his _ family line? And if you went to him, showing him who you are and what you’re capable of, he wouldn’t let anybody, even Snoke, deny you what’s yours any longer.”

It was all too overwhelming. Rey felt tears threatening to spill over, though she couldn’t think why. “What am I capable of?” she murmured.

“Ruling a kingdom.” He almost sounded furious, so emphatically had he said it. “You know you can do it. You know it. You just need to show him.”

Simple as that. Simple. Yet impossible. “And then what?”

“Snoke is stripped of his power, and you become the queen you’re meant to be. You stop the threat of war. You lead Naboo in the way you want.”

“Easy as that,” she murmured to herself.

“I never said it was easy,” Ben said, straightening his shoulders. Rey looked up to see his eyes had softened. Was it compassion? Understanding? Whatever it was, it showed that he knew this course of action he suggested was more complicated than it seemed.

Rey closed her eyes. If it was possible, if she could do this -- face the grandfather she had never wanted to know and miraculously depose Snoke -- she could save countless numbers of people. The Nine Realms would not be caught up in her personal war, and she wouldn’t have to bear the guilt of pointless death. She couldn’t think of it as anything but impossible, but if Ben was right, if there was the slimmest chance it would work, didn’t she have an obligation to take it?

“And you’re sure?” she heard herself ask. “You’re sure he’s alive?”

He nodded. “He’s in Naboo. I can take you to him.”

Palpatine had been so close, and she had never known. “How did you find him?”

There was a pause. “I spent five years doing Snoke’s bidding. I notice things.”

“Such as?”

“Like his obsessive desire to keep the Gungans from moving any settlements farther north. Like the fact that the governor of the Lake Country reports to Snoke only in private meetings, meetings that Snoke has to leave the capital for. Like the disappearance of soldiers without a decent explanation to his own Captain.”

Rey chewed the inside of her lip. “Couldn’t Snoke be keeping the emperor as a prisoner?”

Ben shook his head vehemently. “No. I considered that, but no. He has a healthy fear of the emperor’s reprisals. And besides, I saw the house.”

Rey cocked her head curiously when Ben paused.

He smirked. “That’s no prison.”

“Prisons come in all forms,” a quiet voice broke in from behind Rey.

Ben shot up, knocking his chair back, drawing his sword swiftly. Rey jumped up, as well, masking her gasp with one hand, clutching at her chest with the other.

Out of the darkness of the hall, Luke stepped into view. His face was difficult to make out, but his body bespoke weariness. Rey looked away in shame; she had been too obvious in her attempts to be above suspicion. She looked back at Ben, hoping he could see the apology in her eyes.

But he pointedly kept his gaze on Luke, not sparing her a single glance.

“Hello, Ben,” Luke greeted softly.

“Luke,” Ben rejoined stiffly. “I almost didn’t recognize you without your knife at my throat.”

“You, on the other hand,” Luke replied, “are still just as eager to gut me with your sword.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's back! And this time, he's sticking around. No more Ben Ghost Solo.


	16. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nephew and uncle face off, and Rey makes her decision.

Rey looked back and forth between the two men, Ben with a panicked anger clear on his face, Luke with a determined and sorrowful expression. She had no idea of what to do or what might happen; the only thing she knew was that she didn’t want to see either of them harmed.

Luke spoke first. “You can put that away,” he said with a gesture to Ben’s sword.

This command only seemed to inflame Ben. “And what will happen to me if I do?”

Luke sighed and shook his head sadly. “Nothing. I’m unarmed, Ben. I have no desire to hurt you.”

Rey breathed a quiet sigh of relief, but Ben was still furiously skeptical. “You think you can hurt me?”

“I don’t want to,” Luke replied calmly. “But I know who taught you to fight, Ben. And I still could best him occasionally, even one-handed.”

Ben’s lips, which had turned violently red, twitched slightly. For a few tense seconds, Rey was almost sure he would fling his weapon across the room in a desperate bid to strike at his uncle. But before he could give way to a reckless impulse, his eyes flicked her way. She remained silent, incredibly afraid that she would say something wrong. An instant later, he abruptly dropped his arm, sheathed his sword, and stood up straight. The controlled fury in his face had not abated, though. Rey wasn’t sure if it would while Luke stood before him.

“So, what is it you want?” Ben sneered. “To save my soul?”

“No,” Luke said grimly. “Fortunately, that’s not my mission. That honor belongs to a higher power. No, I only came down to see that Rey was well.”

“She’s fine,” Ben spat out.

Luke moved his gaze to Rey, seeking confirmation silently. “I am,” she said quietly.

“Good,” Luke said shortly, and focused his attention back on Ben. “The last time someone intruded into my home and sought out someone I cared for, it didn’t end so well. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake with Rey.”

“Snoke never came here,” Ben said, his eyes narrowing. “I told you that then, and you wouldn’t believe me.”

Luke shook his head again, with an ironic twist of his mouth. “Have you lost so much of your former scholarship that you’ve forgotten what a metaphor is, Ben? Snoke didn’t need to come here to invade my home; he was here all the same.”

Ben’s scowl deepened.

“I’d be very interested in hearing why the man who stole you from your family is now the man you’re actively fighting,” Luke said, his tone now practically amicable.

Ben’s withering glare was bordering on murderous, but Luke didn’t quail under it. He went on without giving Ben a chance to answer his query. “But the middle of the night is never a good time to discuss anything, much less dangerous schemes of seeking out evil men.”

Rey had wondered how much of Ben’s plan Luke heard. However long he had been listening, it had been enough. “Luke,” she began, and he gave her a sidelong glance, halting her before she could say anything.

“It’s not the time,” he said firmly. “We’ll all do better with a night’s rest. I daresay Ben needs it.”

They both looked back at Ben, whose eyes widened in angry shock. “You think I’d stay here? And sleep?” he exclaimed vehemently.

“You’d rather sleep outside in the cold rain when there’s a perfectly decent, empty bed upstairs?” Luke asked wryly.

“I’ve been doing it for months,” he snarled. “I’m not -”

“And you look it,” Luke interrupted. “Don’t be a fool, Ben. I’m not letting Rey make a decision like this right now.”

“Maybe you ought to let her have a say,” Ben replied hotly.

Luke lifted a brow, then turned to her. “Rey?”

“I . . .” she stammered, with another glance Ben’s way. His gaze was trained on her, and she felt confused and sorry, because she was going to disappoint him, but the truth of the matter was that she had to think over what he said. “I need to . . . I need to think. This is not an easy decision. I’ll have an answer tomorrow. Tonight -- I need to think,” she repeated a little dumbly.

Ben’s face barely changed in the wake of her words, but she could feel the heat of his frustration all the same.

“Ben, please,” she pleaded, taking half a step forward. “Please stay. The idea of you going back out there,” she shuddered in place of finishing her thought. “I promise we’ll talk again in the morning.”

He kept his hard gaze on her for a few moments, then looked at Luke. “And I’ll still be alive then?”

Luke sighed, exasperated, but answered all the same. “Yes. You’ll still be alive.”

“Fine.”

* * *

Rey didn’t mean to sleep in. But when she opened her eyes the next morning, and could tell by the light outside that it was at least an hour past her usual time of rising, she supposed she couldn’t be surprised. Ben’s presence, the confrontation with Luke, and the agonizing decision she had to make, had kept her awake long after the slow, suspicious walk up the stairs the previous evening. It probably looked comical, them being on such tenterhooks with each other, but Rey failed to find the humor in the situation.

Ben was especially distrustful, his eyes darting back to Luke every moment, his hand twitching as though ready to grab for his sword. Rey felt she must stay close to reassure him, but he never once looked her way. Luke, for his part, took measured steps, his own eyes staring at Ben. It had been a short, but extremely uncomfortable, walk. And they had all been reluctant to enter their respective rooms, unwilling to be the first to turn their backs on each other.

Rey sighed as she rose out of bed and dressed. It was one thing to meet Ben in her nightclothes by the light of a lone candle in a dark cottage; it was another thing entirely in the full light of day. She hoped fervently he hadn’t disappeared again while she slept. Every significant interaction they had had so far gave him the aura of a ghost, liable to evaporate into the mist.

But the instant she opened her door, the sound of multiple voices belowstairs was enough to confirm that he had, in fact, stayed. The voices rose and fell, and she pressed her lips together in thought. She didn’t know how wise it was for Ben and Luke to be left alone together (Roland’s presence notwithstanding), but it didn’t sound like they’d killed each other yet, so she couldn’t resist the chance to eavesdrop. What could they say to each other after so many years and so many ill feelings between them? Curiosity trumped wisdom, and she tiptoed her way stealthily down the stairs.

“ . . . think I’d risk everything on a whim?” Ben’s angry voice drifted from the library. “I know he’s there.”

“And I’m not willing to believe everything on instinct alone,” Luke replied, his voice hard. “After what Rey’s been through, she doesn’t deserve to risk her life on a feeling.”

“It’s not for you to let her,” Ben retorted. “It’s her choice.”

“It is. But don’t think for a second that I’ll stay silent. This may not go the way you think. She needs to know that, and so do you.”

“Here we go again,” Ben rejoined bitterly. “Now comes the old lecture.”

“You were barely more than a boy,” Luke pleaded, anger seeping into his voice, as well. “And it was my responsibility to teach you.”

“Some job you made of it.”

“Believe me, I know. And you were such a clever . . . so much potential, so much to live for, and what happened?”

Ben replied in clipped tones. “I became a monster. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“No. I never would have called you that,” Luke said fervently. “But you . . . God help me, Ben, but you were too confident that you were right. It was outright arrogance. You wouldn’t believe that you couldn’t be right all the time, and you wouldn’t listen when I tried to talk to you.”

“Tried?” Ben shot back. “When did you ever really try? You took the easy way out and ignored me, and you convinced yourself you were following your loving principles.”

“I left you to yourself too much. I know. I should have done more. I’m sorry.” Rey’s hand flew to her chest, so quickly had Luke’s voice fallen into a sorrowful pitch. “I failed your parents by not helping you in the way you needed. I failed you by not telling you what you wanted to know. I should have told you about your grandfather, rather than letting Snoke fill in the missing pieces.”

“You said you didn’t read -” Ben accused.

“I didn’t,” Luke replied quickly. “But I’m not an idiot, Ben. I knew where your ideas were coming from, all that talk about Vader being at his most wise and powerful while serving the Empire. What you didn’t know was how he got there. How an evil tyrant manipulated a broken man, heartsick at the death of his wife, giving away his children because he was so angry and overwhelmed at the thought of raising them alone. A man convinced he was responsible for the death of someone he loved, feeling utterly alone, ripe for a powerful ruler to take advantage and use him.

“Or maybe you do know. You know better than anyone that story.”

Rey leaned back against the wall, letting her head tilt backwards in the silence that followed.

“Don’t act like you know anything,” Ben finally said, his voice tight. “What do you know, really, hiding away in this forsaken place, never willing to leave and actually take on some responsibility? I did what needed to be done.”

“And I should have gone after you, so you wouldn’t do it.” More silence. “Do you think I don’t know my sins, Ben?”

“Do you think I don’t know mine?” Ben growled back. “I’ve accepted my eternal condemnation. So I may as well take care of a few things before I die.”

“Like take Rey into the jaws of hell?”

Rey heard the squeaking scrape of a chair being moved, and Ben’s voice rang out. “You think I’d keep her safe this long just to spring a trap for her now?”

“I think you haven’t considered all the angles, like if you’re wrong about Palpatine being alive, or if he’d even be on Rey’s side. If you won’t listen to me, listen to her. She asked about the possibility of Snoke holding him prisoner, and you dismissed it out of hand.”

Since the conversation had turned back to her, Rey thought it was probably about time that she made her presence known. Eavesdropping wasn’t as glamorous a pastime as she thought it would be.

“I’m not wrong.”

“Have you seen him?”

“No. But Pryde is there.”

Rey froze mid-step at Luke’s quavering response. “Enric Pryde?” he asked, the frustration in his voice replaced by astonishment. 

_ Who is Enric Pryde? _ Rey wondered.

“He wouldn’t give his allegiance to anyone besides the emperor, would he?” Ben asked, a hint of smugness in his voice. “Not even the man who wants to continue Palpatine’s work.”

Luke didn’t answer, but Rey could imagine his head bowed in thought, his eyes shifting back and forth in that private way that meant he was chewing on something heretofore unknown. She took careful steps toward the open door.

“She can’t stay here much longer, anyway,” Ben said. “Where is she going to go?”

“Back to Naboo,” Rey answered, stepping into the doorway. Ben, who was standing in front of Luke’s desk, turned sharply toward her. Luke rose from his chair slowly.

“Rey,” he admonished. “You need time to -”

“No,” she interrupted. “I took the time I needed. I’ll go. If there’s a chance that it will work, I owe it to myself to try. I’m willing to face him.”

* * *

Rey could tell that Luke wanted to speak to her privately, and she was willing to do so, but Ben had other ideas. It didn’t help that his very presence filled the whole cottage with a simmering tension, as though the wrong word or look would make it boil over. Rey still wasn’t any more knowledgeable about what had happened between the two men, but she was anxious to prevent a repetition of it. So when Ben practically demanded her attention so that they could make their plans, she gave it.

Not that Luke allowed her to be alone with Ben, either. His acknowledgment of his failures did not equate to an absolute trust in his nephew. He didn’t contribute much to the discussion, but he made himself comfortable at the table, his arms crossed, his blue eyes hardly leaving Ben’s face. Ben pretended to ignore him, but Rey could sense his ire as he forced himself not to meet Luke’s eye.

_ Only a day of this, _ she reminded herself.  _ Only a day, and we’ll be gone. _

“The Gallo range on this side of the Naboo foothills has a good number of caves along the bottom,” Ben was saying, drawing a crude map of the northern mountains on a piece of parchment Roland had provided. (Roland’s wide eyes and slower movements were all the signs of shock on seeing Ben that Rey could observe.) “We’ll go back that way, use the caves for shelter.”

“Just watch out for smugglers,” Luke said under his breath, and Ben glared at him fiercely. Luke didn’t back down. “They’re a popular place for smugglers to hide out, that’s all.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Ben hissed. “Who do you think showed them to me in the first place?”

“One of the best,” Luke replied softly.

Ben’s lips twisted and bent, but he turned back to his drawing. “It’ll be cold going, but the worst of the snows inland are done, we’ll hardly be without water, and the caves are secluded enough to build a fire safely.”

“Hence the smugglers,” Luke muttered again. Rey almost caught a glimmer in his eye, and had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. Luke, for all his sorrow regarding Ben, was not above bating him, and Ben’s hands slamming down on the table gave the air of a petulant child throwing a tantrum.

“Is this a joke to you?” he snarled.

“Not at all,” Luke replied somberly. “But I did tell you I wouldn’t keep silent.”

“So we aren’t going to take alternate routes, backtrack or anything?” Rey asked quickly, wanting to keep explosions to a minimum.

Ben breathed in deeply before replying. “No. At this point, practically nobody knows where you are, so we don’t need to worry about being followed from this outhouse,” - this comment did inspire an offended “Hey!” from Roland, who prided himself on keeping the cottage clean - “and your object now is speed, not concealment.”

“I don’t want to parade myself about,” Rey said, confused.

“And you won’t. We’ll still be hidden, but that is secondary to reaching your destination quickly.”

“How long will it take? If we take this western path along the mountains, how long will it take to get to where he is?” she asked.

“Around a month, if the weather doesn’t delay us,” he replied.

At which point spring would truly be in its early stages. And if this spring was abnormally wet, as it had been the past two years in the northern regions, that could slow them beyond Ben’s estimate. He wasn’t wrong, then. It was best they travel in a straight line rather than taking a circuitous path, if she wanted to reach the emperor as quickly as possible.

“Naboo’s eastern hills extend south from the mountains,” she muttered, half-chewing on the inside of her lower lip as she drew the line of hills on the parchment with her finger. “Is there a decent crossing into Naboo if we head straight into that area where they meet?”

Ben hesitated, then shook his head. “Not one that wouldn’t take weeks to go over. As we get near the foothills, we’ll need to cut southwest to reach the Bacca pass again. It’s the fastest way into Naboo.”

Rey’s eyes widened in horror. “After what happened there, isn’t it too risky to go there again? Finn nearly died there; they know that’s where I escaped into Alderaan.”

“Which is why they wouldn’t expect you to use it again,” Ben said shortly, but with the air of someone explaining something simple to a child. “Snoke knows you’re too smart to make such a foolish choice.”

Her nostrils flared. “He may expect me to come back a different way, but he’s not so stupid as to keep it unguarded,” she argued.

“And I’ll take care of it,” Ben replied, his jaw set. “I did it before.”

Rey stared incredulously at him. What she had overheard Luke say was becoming more clear in the light of day. Ben Solo was stubbornly arrogant.

He met her stare with one of his own. “Do you have another plan, Highness? Another way to get to a place you’ve never been? A faster way? A better way?” She could see the triumphant gleam in his eyes, and felt the urge to slap it away. Just because she had little other choice didn’t mean he needed to rub it in. She didn’t have a ready response to his question, and rather than give way to the impulse to slap him, she took to her feet and stormed away.

She was halfway to the front door when she heard Luke’s distant murmur, “Still the charmer, aren’t you?” Her hand was wrenching open the door the next moment, so if Ben replied, she didn’t hear it.

Perhaps stomping around the garden was beneath her, but it was the only thing she could think to do to relieve her emotions. How dare he speak to her like that? Did he forget it was her life on the line, her future that hung in the balance? A corner of her mind reminded her that he had given up his future, and his plan was likely the only way to go. But still, she argued with herself, he didn’t need to be so confoundedly smug about it.

The secret part of her that had begun to thrill at the idea of being alone with him for days on end was teetering. If his current manner was any indicator of his general attitude, no amount of physical attraction would be able to withstand it. Yes, and wouldn’t that make things easier? She wouldn’t be suffering from any romantic delusions and would be able to focus on the serious matter at hand. Yes, perhaps Ben Solo wasn’t so very handsome, after all.

At the creak of the door, she halted her furious pacing, and watched Luke exit the cottage and walk toward her.

She huffed as he came closer. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t sit there with that . . . with him speaking to me like I’m some sort of idiot.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed perceptively. “I don’t blame you for that. And I’m proud of you; it’s always better to walk away than give in to the temptation to do something rash.”

“Will it be like this the whole journey?” Rey asked.

Luke looked back toward the house. “You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked instead of answering.

She sighed. “I can’t sit still any longer. You and I both knew my time here was growing short, and nothing we discussed seemed like a viable option. I’m ready to do something, anything. I don’t want to keep retreating.”

“But do you think going back to Naboo and taking this risk is the next step you want to take?”

“I know it’s a risk,” she said with a shiver. “And it might be a foolish one. But if it works, it will have saved so many people.”

Luke watched her, his face skeptical.

“You took a risk years ago, against the advice of your sister. And look what happened,” Rey pointed out.

“That was different,” Luke insisted.

“But you did something potentially very stupid.”

He sighed and shook his head slightly. “Yes.”

“Luke,” Rey pleaded. “I think this is something I have to do. I have to try. I won’t be able to look at myself, knowing I could have done something and didn’t make the effort. I know I’ll regret it if I don’t.”

Luke gazed at her for several silent moments, his blue eyes piercing and inscrutable. “If you’re sure. I won’t stop you. Not that I could have if I tried to.”

Rey managed a tight smile.

“As for Ben,” he went on with another glance back at the cottage, “I think I can safely promise you that he doesn’t think you’re an idiot. But he forgets too easily that he can be wrong.”

“So you said.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “How much of our conversation did you listen to this morning?”

“I . . .” she stammered, a hot flush spreading up her neck and across her cheeks. “Enough, I guess,” she admitted.

“Then you know some of my reservations about this whole business have to do with Ben,” he said seriously. “But I know he wouldn’t have done all this if he didn’t think you were capable of leading a nation. He told you that last night when you thought I was safely asleep.”

Rey kicked the dirt under her feet petulantly. “I wanted to slap him just now.”

Luke’s lips quirked in amusement. “Maybe you should have.”

“You said you were proud of me for walking away!”

“I know,” he mused. “But it might do the kid some good. He got all his mother’s brains with all his father’s heart. Which means he’s too smart and too confident for one body. A slap, or even a fist, on the jaw might knock some sense into him. It’s more than his family was willing to do; maybe you’re the one who needs to take the initiative.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have plenty of opportunities,” Rey reflected grimly. Unbidden, their conversation from the previous night popped into her head, along with the feeling of hope and confidence that she could practically touch, all because of Ben’s unrelenting belief in her abilities. Arrogant he may be, but when it was expressed through his support of her, it didn’t seem such a fatal flaw. “There’s still . . . there’s still good in him, I can feel it,” the traitorous part of her spoke up. “I can’t believe that he would do all this if he didn’t know right from wrong still, and wanted to choose right.”

Luke regarded her more soberly than ever. “And I hope you’re right. Sincerely, I do. But he’s spent years being under Snoke’s thumb. That kind of mentality doesn’t disappear overnight. And even if he’s genuine in making things right for you, he could still be blinded by many things -- arrogance, revenge . . . That could lead to reckless decisions, no matter his intentions. Be careful of trusting him too much, Rey. It’s a long road to travel. You need to keep your eyes open.”

Rey took a shuddering breath, and nodded. Luke wasn’t forbidding her from leaving (not that she would have listened if he had), but he was right to warn her. She was already in too much danger of trusting Ben Solo unreservedly, of believing in his inherent goodness simply because he was forwarding her goals and because it was far too easy to become trapped in the spell of his eyes. When they spoke in the darkness, it was easy to believe him because he seemed bred to rule the night, but day had dawned and she had to face the fact that, attraction aside, she didn’t know him. She knew plenty  _ of  _ him, but she didn’t know him herself. And until then, she had to force herself to be on her guard.

A reminder all the more necessary to be made when he appeared in the doorway, his dark eyes fixed on her, making her feel warm despite herself. He looked only a little abashed, which stoked some frustration in her, since she figured that meant he wouldn’t apologize for his earlier comments. Not if he still believed he’d won the argument. But he had enough perception to know he had hit a nerve, and it would be wise not to rub in his superior knowledge in the future.

_ Stubborn, arrogant, _ Rey repeated to herself as she passed him on the way back to the kitchen to discuss the rest of their journey. She repeated it to herself when he ran his hand through his thick, unruly hair. She repeated it when he stood near her in the parlor, watching closely as she chose the weapons she would carry. She repeated it after she had gone to bed, lying on the familiar mattress, staring at the black ceiling and wondering if he lay awake, too.

It was an early, silent breakfast. Roland’s whistles were nonexistent, and he almost whimpered a couple of times when Rey caught his eye. Luke and Ben were both rigid with tension, still looking sideways at the other as though either one was about to strike. Rey was a bundle of nerves. Finally, she would be on the road again, no longer stagnant, with a known goal, but what a terrifying goal it was. She tried to take comfort that she would not be alone, but the hard lines of Ben’s face were not comforting in the least.

Roland’s embrace in the drizzly canopy of trees was long and fierce, and he thrust her satchel at her with a plea to take care and eat, and he’d packed some of the sweet ginger biscuits she had grown so fond of. His lips positively trembled, and Rey had to look away quickly lest she follow his example. She turned to Luke, unsure of what sort of display to expect from him.

He looked unsure himself. He stepped closer to her, his expression serious and concerned. He lifted his arms, but he did not hug her to him. Rather, he took a firm grip of her shoulders. Well, a firm grip with one hand, and the other merely rested atop her shoulder, but the gesture was not the less significant for it. He stared her down quietly, then with a heaving breath, he gave her a bolstering half-smile.

“Keep your eyes open,” he reminded her. “Listen. But don’t back down. Confront your fears. This is your fight.”

She nodded again and again, tears prickling behind her eyelids. Luke patted her shoulder decisively, and stepped back. He looked to the side, and Rey followed his gaze to where Ben stood stiffly, shouldering his pack and appearing as though he didn’t know which way to look. Luke took a few steps his way, but stopped before Ben would feel the need to retreat.

“I’m grateful I can at least say goodbye to you this time,” Luke said a trifle coldly.

Ben shifted his feet around uncomfortably. “Well, it didn’t seem necessary before. A fight almost to the death is pretty final.”

Luke winced. “This isn’t the time to discuss it. Just keep her safe.”

Ben’s stern eyes softened the tiniest bit as he smirked. “Like the Shadow.”

Luke’s head reared back in mild surprise, and Rey was puzzled at the hint of a smile that played across his lips. “So you still think it’s a protector.”

“Hellekin has some new evidence to support that theory. If you ever left this place and did some research into her findings, you might know that,” Ben replied, his tone a mix of teasing and warning.

“Is that so?” Luke challenged.

“I’m not as devoid of scholarship as you think,” Ben said shortly.

Rey could have palmed her forehead. Everything that was happening, everything that had happened between these two, and they chose now to resurrect an old scholarly debate? It was an absolutely ridiculous way to say farewell. Though, she pondered, it was the most cordial way Ben and Luke could say it without pulling weapons on each other. This was the strangest family. Heaven alone knew why she occasionally wished she could be part of it.

Ben looked at her, his smirk dying away. “Ready?”

Rey swallowed thickly, her nerves rising up to a fever pitch. She didn’t suppose replying in the negative would change things. She felt choked by the fluttering within her, so only answered with a sharp nod. That was sufficient for him, and he turned, with another glance to Luke that he just couldn’t avoid, and began to walk resolutely away.

Her breath caught in her chest, and fear joined her nerves as she cast one more look back to Luke herself. His face was guarded, but he gave her that bracing smile with a firm nod that let her know she’d better be on her way or she’d have to run to catch up with Ben.

“May God be with you,” Luke said softly.

And with that pronouncement ringing in her ears, she took a step forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they're off! It seriously took so much longer to get to this point than I first expected or planned. Which is pretty much the story for most of the chapters in this tale, I guess. These darn characters always end up talking more than I think they're going to! Be ready for an uptick of romantic tension, more arguing, some unashamed use of tropes, and blatant theft of movie lines that I couldn't resist. :)


	17. First Steps

Now that Rey was truly alone with Ben Solo, she had absolutely no idea of what to say to him. All her former imaginings seemed inordinately silly now that she was walking alongside the man in the flesh. There was no easy way to begin conversation, and the stony set of his features wasn’t encouraging. Annoyed as she had been at her recognition of his overconfidence, she rather thought that spending a month in silence was far more unbearable than weathering that triumphant look in his eye when she had to concede his point.

Besides, despite Luke’s understandable warning, Rey was still more inclined to trust Ben than not. Setting aside his murky past, nothing he had done with regard to her had been dubious. She knew she shouldn’t take it for granted, but Luke himself had instructed her to judge with compassion and wisdom, and she was determined to be certain of Ben Solo one way or the other. Of course, neither compassion nor wisdom could be satisfied if Ben refused to speak to her the entire length of the journey.

It was possible, she mused that first afternoon, that now they were on their way with plans more firmly settled, Ben was at a loss for words just as she was. But she cast aside that thought rather quickly. He’d had no problem expressing himself during difficult moments so far; why should he be so suddenly changed? No, the fault for the awkward silence between them now must lie with her. So must the remedy be her responsibility.

“How long,” she asked, once the fire was lit that first night, “will it take to reach the mountains? Will we follow the coastline all the way north?” She thought that perhaps she should already know the answer to this, but Ben had spoken only of their route beginning at the Gallo range. He had said nothing about reaching the mountains from Luke’s home.

Ben sat down with a grunt beside his pack, which he searched through as he spoke. “Only a couple of days. They’ll be in sight by tomorrow noon, once we leave the coastal woods. If we followed the coastline, we’d end up going east into Corellia, and that’s the opposite direction of where we want to go.”

“So I never actually left Alderaan?” Rey asked.

Ben looked up from his pack in surprise. “They never told you where you were?” He looked annoyed and amused in equal measure.

Rey bit back an ornery retort. She wasn’t in the mood to have her ignorance rubbed in her face again so quickly. “I knew we’d gone east -- the sea gave that away if nothing else did --, but I couldn’t tell how far south or north Chewie took me. We didn’t exactly walk a straight line. And,” she looked away, a little ashamed, “I never bothered to ask once I was there.”

Ben said nothing, which spurred Rey on to keep talking. “I’m sure Luke would have told me had I asked. I knew the name of the village and the abbey. But it was all so secretive; I wasn’t sure I  _ should _ know exactly where I was.”

He grimaced. “Luke is unreasonably protective of his whereabouts. If he gave it any thought at all, he’d realize nobody cares where an obsolete, former hero lives.”

“I thought he did it for Mara’s sake,” Rey countered gently.

Ben pulled up, his eyes wide. The grimace disappeared into a blank look. Was that shame? He considered her words with something approaching leniency, at least. “That may be part of it,” he relented. “But it’s been many years since she died. There’s no purpose to his anonymity now.”

“Why was he so worried about Snoke knowing his location, then?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Some nonsense about Snoke taking revenge on him, or making an example of him to the remnants of the Empire.” He shook his head, muttering, “Snoke had no interest in Luke.”

“Only in you,” Rey prodded quietly.

Ben’s head snapped up at her comment. “What of it?” he asked in a menacing tone.

She forced herself to remain calm. “Nothing. Just . . . making an observation,” she replied in as neutral a manner as she could.

His upper lip curled. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard plenty of ‘observations’ about me by now.”

Rey’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Considering your part in my life lately, can you really be surprised that your family has told me more about you? It could hardly be kept secret that the man who effectively smuggled me out of Naboo was the Crown Prince of Alderaan.”

“That’s not a title that applies to me any longer,” he murmured.

She huffed. “That’s beside the point. The point is that once they knew who was responsible, really responsible, for my escape, it was natural that the connection would be made known to me.”

“Then you know everything you need to know,” he replied simply.

“No,” she responded just as shortly. “I don’t. I couldn’t possibly. And you seem to have the wrong idea of what your family told me about you.”

“I’m sure I don’t.”

“You might be surprised. If you could have heard your mother, the way she spoke -”

“That’s enough!” he shouted, one hand closing into a white-knuckled fist that shook on his knee. His jaw clenched. “What do you know about it?”

Rey, startled by the outburst but determined to hold her ground, said, “Only what they’ve told me.”

“And that’s all you’ll ever hear,” he muttered, his eyes intense.

She set her own jaw in response. “I sincerely hope not,” she spoke deliberately, her eyes focused on him.

That caught him off-guard. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” she said slowly, “we’ve got a long journey ahead of us, just we two. And I don’t intend to spend it being totally ignorant of who you are.”

His eyes remained hard, but the shifting of his mouth revealed some discomfort. “You don’t want to know who I am.”

“Well, I’m not going to travel with a stranger,” she challenged. “And like it or not, what your family has told me isn’t enough.”

He stared her down, but she wasn’t finished.

“And like it or not,” she repeated, “I won’t stop telling you how your family feels about you.”

A blatant flinch of his eyes showed she’d shocked him again, but at least he didn’t shout this time. “I can imagine what Luke said. That I’m too stubborn in thinking I’m always right. He told you not to trust me, didn’t he?”

Close enough, but Rey wanted him to know Luke’s exact wording. “No. He did tell me to be careful of trusting you too much. Was he wrong to say that?”

He tilted his head a little, those lips in constant, twisting motion. “No.” It seemed to physically pain him to agree with anything Luke said. “It’s foolish for anyone to place absolute trust in anybody else.”

Rey’s brow furrowed. She didn’t entirely agree with his statement, but she didn’t think now was the time to debate such a thing. She settled on saying, “But you expect me to trust in what you’re leading me to. And if I’m to give you that much trust, be it absolute or not, maybe you shouldn’t yell at me and keep me from making my own judgments. And stop assuming you know what your family has told me.”

“I don’t want to talk about my family,” he said, his voice on the rise again.

“Fine,” she agreed, and the fire in his expression cooled a little. “But this isn’t over. I’m beginning to discover you’re a stubborn man, Ben Solo,” he jerked violently at her use of his full name, but she went on, “but you’ll find I’m not a docile creature myself. You don’t survive nearly twenty years in Jakku without gaining a little stubbornness of your own. And if I want to talk about your family, I will.” She paused, easing a little gentleness back into her voice. “You deserve to know how they feel about you. It might help you.”

There was outright pain in his eyes now, but he was making a valiant effort to mask it. Maybe this was why he had kept that helmet on so vigilantly before, the thought struck her. His face was a medley of emotion, and that could easily have been a weakness in Snoke’s court. “It’s not your place to help me,” he said thickly. “I’m beyond help.”

She was sure to provoke another shout if she pushed too hard, but she couldn’t resist one last comment. “I don’t believe that.”

To forestall further argument, she bent and reached into her own pack. There, lying atop her meager supplies, was the folded cloth containing the ginger biscuits Roland had whispered to her about. She pulled it out fondly, and unbound the wrapping, keeping her eyes fixed on her task. Ben might want to engage in more fighting if she looked his way too quickly, or he might wish for the little privacy he could get to school his features. She wanted to give him that chance if it was so.

“Have you had these?” she asked, balancing the biscuits carefully so they would not topple to the pine needle-encrusted ground.

“What are they?” he asked gruffly, and she chanced a glance up at him. His face was composed once more.

“Roland’s ginger biscuits. He packed them especially.”

A corner of his mouth lifted, quite beyond his control. “I remember them.”

Extending her arm carefully across the fire, she held them out to him. “I doubt he meant for me to eat them alone.”

* * *

Their rocky start notwithstanding, Rey had at least broken the ice, so she didn’t feel so uncomfortable as they traversed the remaining woods. The air was cold, and as they moved farther away from the sea and the trees thinned, Rey could see spots of white where snow lingered in the clearings. Finding a dry place to sleep would likely be a challenge the remainder of their journey, though she was a little comforted by Ben’s knowledge of the mountain caves.

Sleeping outside was not a novelty for her, but in such conditions as they were in, she had trouble adjusting. They took turns keeping watch at night, and as she burrowed into her woolen cloak, hoping for warmth to cocoon her into sleep, it was difficult to give way to slumber with Ben right beside her. When her turn to keep watch came, she wondered if he had the same trouble. Likely he wasn’t as distracted by her presence as she was by his, but he was not a trusting person. Did he actually sleep, or did he feign it in case she dared attack or leave him behind? And considering the possible offence she caused him, what did he think of her personally? These and other questions haunted Rey in the darkness.

The supplies they carried were limited; her satchel contained dried food, a couple spare tunics to wear underneath the leather jerkin that covered her torso, and healing herbs and balms Luke had provided her. She didn’t ask if he had contributed to Ben’s pack. Her water skin dangled on one side of her, bouncing into her hip as they walked. Her sword hung on the other. In her belt was tucked one of the knives she had trained with; the other was hidden away in her boot. All this was partially concealed by the hooded cloak that now served her for a blanket during those uncomfortable hours of attempted sleep.

Like her, Ben wore a sword and dagger on his belt, and his forest-green cloak. However, the dark jerkin he wore was sleeveless, under which was a hauberk of chainmail that she had not seen in their previous encounters. Additionally, slung across his back was a quiver of arrows and the crossbow she had carried with her from the Bacca pass, to Aldera, and to Luke’s home. She had thought it best to return Ben’s property to him, especially since he seemed to be more familiar with the weapon than she was, her lone shot of it having gone astray. And they had need of Ben’s expertise with it, if they had any hope of catching a decent meal.

“We won’t be in dire straits, if that’s what concerns you,” he said on the second evening. The shelter of the woods was behind them, and she could see the mountains in the distance, just as he said she would. Thankfully, there was no rain that night. “We have enough coin to stop occasionally in one of the mountain villages to restock or take in a tavern meal.”

“It’s worth the risk?” she asked skeptically.

He shrugged. “We’re in Alderaan. You’re not in danger here.”

“Except from assassins in the capital,” she pointed out ironically.

Even in the dark, she could see his eyes roll. “All right, you’re in less danger here than you would be in Naboo.” Clearly he didn’t appreciate her poking holes in his arguments. Had no one challenged him in so long?

“And the townspeople wouldn’t be at all suspicious of a couple of strangers armed to the hilt.”

“Have you forgotten what it’s like outside of a castle, Highness?” he snapped at her. “Everybody is armed, if not for anything else, to provide food for themselves. We won’t stick out as much as you think. And I’m not planning on lingering anywhere. It’s still best to keep a low profile; we don’t want rumors spreading and giving warning to Snoke’s network that you’re on the move. But the occasional stop, quick and anonymous, won’t do any damage.”

“But we’ll stay overnight in the caves,” she phrased her question as a statement.

He nodded again. “Having a single meal in a posting inn is one thing; taking a room for the night in one is another. And I’m in no mood to invent some story for us to share a room.”

It was a mercy it was night, so Ben couldn’t see her blush at the thought of sharing a room with him. Somehow being confined within four walls was a far more intimate situation than sleeping out in the wilderness. “We’d have to share a room?”

“I’m not taking any chances, Highness,” he replied forcefully. “I can’t protect you if we’re separated.”

_ Why do you want to protect me? _ Rey longed to ask.  _ How does any of this help you? _ He hadn’t spoken of every hardship he’d undergone in the past few months, but judging from what he had said and the continual exhaustion he exhibited, Rey could imagine her experiences so far had been less physically taxing than his. What was it that made him willing to bear those hardships? Half a year had passed since she had asked him, “Why?” before separating at the canyon, and his reply still echoed through her.

_ You are my queen. _

But what made her so? His allegiance was no small thing, and she was glad of it. But what had brought it about? If she dared ask, would he bother answering? He was not a liar, but he also blatantly kept his mouth shut when he chose not to answer a question. And she suspected that if she pried into his reasons right now, he would say nothing beyond reiterating her own claims. Nothing of his own motivation to help and protect her.

At this point, perhaps it was best not to question why he went through all this, but to simply accept it and be grateful. But she would not be content to be ignorant forever.

The valley between the woods and mountains wasn’t entirely barren, although it was rather dreary-looking with the skeletal trees and bushes that awaited spring’s renewal. Patches of snow that lingered in the shade spread into muddy brown sludge that was difficult and slow to move through. The freezing wind that blew heavily through the valley, unhindered by any large barriers, was enough to keep Rey’s feet from becoming mired for long, though. It gave her the incentive she needed to keep moving, and she was more than ready to reach the shelter of the mountains so that she could walk without sinking and hear more than just the whistling wind in her ears.

Trudging through the snow once they neared the mountains wasn’t much different than the muck of the past two days, and she was afraid of the snow seeping through her boots and cutting off the feeling in her feet. Fortunately, Ben was able to find a well-traveled track along the foot of the mountains fairly quickly, which was still muddy, but Rey preferred the mud to losing a toe. Soon enough, they had even left the track, climbing up rocky slopes and into crevices barely wider than Ben’s shoulders.

He walked these unmarked paths with the quickness of someone well-acquainted with them. How often had his father brought him here? Was it odd for him to walk these old trails as though he were a stranger, knowing all the while that this was the land he had been born to rule?

They crept through a narrow tunnel, and for a brief moment, as the light at the entrance disappeared at a sudden turning, Rey was afraid of being trapped in the darkness forever. She threw out her hand, grasping at Ben’s arm as best she could. He halted abruptly at her touch, and the mail of his shirt was cold and unfeeling under her fingers. It did nothing to alleviate the fear that clutched at her chest.

Then his hand, not terribly warm, but strong, calloused, and firm, enclosed itself around hers. And as rapidly as her fear had sprung up, it was gone. He said nothing, but stood there quietly, waiting with her. She wasn’t sure how long it was they remained, his hand covering hers, her heart making the swift leap from fear to comfort to breathless anticipation. It could have been a few minutes, or a passing moment.

Doubt nudged at her all too quickly, though, and she drew her hand back, feeling foolish and young for betraying her weakness. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s fine,” he replied quietly. “Can you go on?”

“Yes,” she said with a huff. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

There was a brief pause, and then he said, “Not much farther,” and he stepped out of reach.

If she had waited only a couple of seconds, there would have been no fear to betray, as the tunnel wound around again to show the light at the other end. Rey shook her head, berating herself. When had she suddenly been afraid of the dark? And what made her think that Ben would lead her somewhere she couldn’t get out again? She was utterly ridiculous.

There was another short climb after they left the tunnel, at the top of which was their destination. The cave was larger than she expected, burrowed far back into the rocks, large enough for at least ten people to shelter comfortably. It was obviously well-used, the ground gravelly and dirt-packed rather than rocky or muddy. A fire pit was situated back a few feet into the shadows, old scratches were etched into the walls, and a few abandoned crates that had probably once held smuggled cargo were scattered throughout the enclosure.

Ben, after depositing his pack on the ground, dragged a couple of the crates closer to the pit, and walked farther back into the shadows. Rey, her feet weary, plopped down on one of the crates far from gracefully. Breathing in a deep sigh of relief, she felt her shoulders relax and let her legs stretch out in front of her.

A thunderous crash broke her out of her brief respite, and she sprang to her feet, drawing her knife from her belt, and whirling to where Ben stood.

“At ease,” he said with a smirk, kicking broken pieces of wood out at her. Again, that shameful feeling of foolishness overcame her as she realized Ben, instead of fruitlessly searching for firewood out in the damp mountains, was creating his own by smashing apart the boxes littering the back wall. She stowed her knife back in her belt, and caught hold of a few of the pieces Ben had nudged her way.

“You scared me,” she muttered crossly, wishing her hood was up to hide her face.

“Sorry. I should have warned you,” he replied, gathering wood into his arms, as well. “If it’s any consolation, your reflexes are excellent. No intruder would be able to get the drop on you. Although, we already found that out in Aldera.”

It wasn’t much of a balm, but Rey wasn’t about to deny the scrap of dignity he offered her. She allowed the wood to drop in a heap into the pit. Ben followed suit.

“Now what?” she asked.

He picked up his crossbow. “Have to find dinner somewhere.”

Rey groaned. “We have to go back out there?”

Ben snickered, his lips curling into the closest semblance of a smile she had yet seen from him. She felt herself reddening again. “We’re well secluded. If you’re willing to risk it, I can look for food alone.”

“What do you think you’ll find?”

“Hopefully a hare or bird. If we had a horse, I’d look for something bigger, but we can’t carry much out of here as it is.”

Rey nodded. She looked around the cave, already revelling in the protection from the wind. She wasn’t eager to go back out into it. “I’ll stay here, if you don’t mind.”

For a moment, Ben looked like he was going to say something, his eyes showing a hint of concern. But whatever he wanted to say, he kept back, settling for an awkward hesitation. He grabbed the quiver, and headed for the mouth of the cave. “I’ll be back within the hour, whether I find something or not.”

Rey bit her lip. For all it was his suggestion, and she was ready for rest, she suddenly wasn’t sure that it was right she stay behind. There was not only the vague uneasiness at being left alone, but a guilty shame in recognizing that he had journeyed just as far as she had and hadn’t taken even a moment to recover. But she settled for another nod, and watched him climb back down the short slope to the path. With that mild sense of guilt gnawing at her insides, she sank onto the crate again, and closed her eyes for just a moment.

The moment dragged on, and she jerked into consciousness before toppling onto the ground. Looking outside, she saw the sky had darkened, which meant she must have dozed off, but for how long she wasn’t sure. Ben hadn’t returned yet. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long before he did.

The voices from below the cave didn’t sound terribly friendly.

Rey jumped up, alert and afraid. The voices, accompanied by the occasional grunt, were approaching, the group making the climb up to her hideout. She could make out three distinct voices, though there may be more. She glanced around the empty cave walls, fruitlessly looking for help. The rocks displaced by ascending feet could be heard clattering down the hill. She drew her sword.

A black-haired man appeared, hoisting himself onto the rock shelf without noticing her at first. Once he straightened, though, and Rey could see a woman’s head appearing in the same manner, he saw her.

“Looks like we’re not alone up here,” he said conversationally, taking hold of his companion’s arm to help her up the rest of the way.

“Oh, just our luck,” the woman replied sourly, wiping her hands on her gray leggings once her footing was secure.

So they weren’t a group out to follow her. This was a little bit of a relief, but she wasn’t about to sheathe her sword just yet.

“Wes!” the man called down to an unseen companion. “Leave the stuff for a bit. We’ve got a squatter.”

“Shouldn’t be hard to clear her out,” the woman muttered with a smug sneer. “Not much to her.”

The slight was enough to get Rey’s blood boiling, especially since the wiry woman was several inches shorter than her. “You might be surprised,” she replied coldly, raising the sword by a fraction. “You care to try?”

The woman laughed, and another man appeared over the ledge, this one heavier-set with light-brown hair, and a solid-looking quarterstaff hanging off his back. “Go on, girl,” she said in a mocking tone. “Don’t make this harder on yourself than it needs to be.”

“Just you clear out, and we won’t harm a hair on your pretty little head,” the second man said, whipping his staff out in a quick motion. “This is our place.”

“I was here first,” Rey said stubbornly, her eyes narrowed.

“Not the way I see it,” he replied, stepping toward her menacingly. “We consider this our holiday spot, if you get my meaning, and you’re trespassing.”

She lifted the sword higher, digging her toes into the dirt experimentally. “You want it back? Come and claim it.”

Something in her voice must have hit a nervous vein in the dark-haired man, as he said with some concern, “Wes? Maybe it’s best to leave off. It ain’t her fault we came on the same night. What if we kick her out and she goes to the deputy in Istabith?”

“Yes, Wes,” Rey said, drawing out his name like they were old acquaintances. “What if I did just that?”

“You’d have to be able to speak,” the woman said, her pale eyes turning into slits as she unearthed a long knife from a hidden scabbard. “And you can’t speak too well with your tongue cut out.”

Rey stamped back the tremor of dismay that ran through her. These people probably did nothing more beyond scaring off potential enemies, but she didn’t doubt that they were entirely capable of following through on their threats. Was this the kind of smuggler Han Solo had been, with deadened eyes and cruel smiles? And where in the world was Ben?

Still, she held her ground and channeled all the bravado she could muster. “I wish you luck. No one’s been able to beat me in years,” -- best not to admit that she hadn’t been in a real fight in nearly three years, and none of her former fights had been with the sword -- “and I doubt I’ll even work up a sweat handling you.” She spun the sword once in her hand to stretch her muscles, and rather hoped the flourish would show them she was no novice.

The nervous man backed up a step, but his companions weren’t impressed in the least. “You’ll regret not listening to us, girly,” the woman warned, and lunged forward with her knife raised. Rey lifted the sword to parry her attack.

A familiar thwap sounded, and the woman let out a horrific scream as her knife dropped to the dirt. She cradled her hand against her chest, shrieking still at the arrow lodged in her palm. Rey’s eyes shot out the cave to the opposite slope where Ben had appeared, reloading the crossbow as he hurtled down it.

Wes lost no time, and didn’t seem to care that Rey wasn’t actually alone. He leapt forward, swinging his staff wildly. Rey jumped out of the way of the first strike, but the weight of her sword slowed her movements, and she wasn’t able to avoid his second swing, brutally landing on her arm and knocking her into the cave wall. She managed to avoid hitting her head, though she nearly lost her grip of the sword as she ducked out of the way of his next attack.

He stumbled forward, losing balance as she spun out of reach, and as he turned to face her again, she kicked out, her foot landing solidly in his large stomach. The lurching of his body in such quick succession was too much for him, and he fell onto the ground with a heavy thud. His grip on his own weapon was tenuous, and Rey quickly closed the gap to whack the staff out of his hands with her sword.

Distantly she could hear the whimpers of the woman, who had crouched down to the ground, still nursing her injury. She could also hear the pleading tones of the other man, though her focus on Wes was so strong that she didn’t know what he said. Wes was disarmed and down, but he wasn’t ready to admit defeat. He backed out of the reach of her sword, his hands scrambling along the ground. Rey stalked after him.

It was then that Ben finally appeared over the ledge, and Rey chanced a look his way. He met her eyes for a moment, but almost immediately he shouted, “Look out!”

As the knife slashed across her upper arm, the first thing she thought was,  _ Stupid girl. _ She knew well that Wes wasn’t done fighting, and nothing, not even Ben Solo, should have made her lose her focus. The next thing that registered in her brain was the searing pain of the wound, and she let out a howl of her own. Her sword was ripped out of her hands, and before she was aware of how it happened, Wes had her in his grasp, her injured arm twisted behind her as he held her back up against his front, the knife at her ear.

Ben had the crossbow trained on Wes, his eyes threatening and furious. “Let her go,” he growled, the hushed tones far more alarming than a yell.

“Not a chance,” Wes replied, his voice straining for breath. “Put down the bow.”

“Not a chance,” Ben echoed, taking a step forward.

Wes pulled Rey back with him, and she hissed in pain at his relentless grip. If he twisted any more, he could easily break her wrist. “You got one of my crew; I can take one of yours,” he said. “We told her to shove off, but she wouldn’t listen. Maybe she’d try harder if one of her ears was gone.” The knife pricked at her earlobe, and she tried to squirm away from its point.

“Try it and you’re dead,” Ben said, his low voice lethal.

“Just an even exchange,” Wes said, another twist of the wrist forcing a gasp from Rey.

Ben lifted the crossbow. “This’ll get you right between the eyes if you move another inch.”

Wes laughed, and Rey was distracted from her pain the instant his foul breath touched her skin, enough to realize his error. “You might hit your little friend here.”

“I. Don’t. Miss.” Ben’s reply was slow, serious, and utterly frightening.

Rey jabbed her elbow of her completely free arm with all her might into Wes’s paunchy side, and with a grunt of pain, he released her hand. She twirled immediately, sending a punch into his wrist to dislodge the knife from his grasp, and, hooking her foot around his ankle, she wrenched his feet out from under him. 

He went crashing down to the ground, and she scooped up the knife as she knelt alongside him. Hurried footsteps came closer, and she felt Ben standing above her. She wouldn’t take the risk of looking away from Wes again. With a slow and careful hand, she glided the knife under his nose, and she saw his shoulders shake.

“What was it that would make someone listen better?” she inquired sweetly. “The ear?” She gave a light prod to his fleshy ear, and he positively yelped.

“All right, all right,” he exclaimed in a panic. “You’ve made your point. The cave is yours.”

Now she looked at Ben, chancing a triumphant smirk. His lips barely twitched in response, but his eyes were dangerously pleased.

She looked back at Wes, and let the smirk die away. “The cave is anybody’s. You’ve got an injured fellow there, and cargo to keep safe overnight. If your friend there will give me his word on your behalf that you won’t try anything stupid,” she jerked her head back where the dark-haired man still stood, panic and dismay leeching off of him, “you can stay here tonight, too.”

Rey barely had a chance to take in Wes’s surprised expression before the other man jumped in, his voice breathless. “Yes, yes, I give you my word. We won’t do anything. I promise. Please.”

In an instant, Rey withdrew her hand, and leaned back into a crouch. Wes sat up, rubbing tenderly at the back of his head. “Didn’t expect that,” he muttered.

“Which part?” she asked.

He opened his mouth to quickly retort, paused, considered, and then replied, “Any of it, I guess.”

Rey pushed herself to her feet, the acute ache in her arm returning. But she was curious about Ben’s reaction to her unexpected offer to Wes’s crew, and looked up at him to see if he disapproved. His countenance didn’t give anything away of his feelings on the matter, but his eyes bored into her all the same.

“From now on,” he said quietly, “no more splitting up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received a comment about how the landscapes I've described are Tolkien-esque, and while this is probably true, another point of influence from Lord of the Rings is how I picture their clothing. Ben is basically in Faramir/Aragorn Ranger mode, which is my favorite mode on both those men. Whichever one you want to picture works for me, but I personally lean a little more toward the Faramir Ranger outfit than Strider in my head. I mean, Aragorn's the man, but Faramir is MY man. (well, one of them. ;) )


	18. The Question of Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Rey's turn to share.

Marcus, the nervous member of Wes’s crew, was so relieved that his companions weren’t killed, and grateful that Rey was so magnanimous as to allow them to stay, that he rushed around to serve them the remainder of the night. He watched over the fire, skinning the hares that Ben had brought back and cooking them, hauled water from a nearby stream, and offered their finest blanket (meaning the one with the least holes in it) to Rey. This on top of multiple trips to stash their own cargo in the recesses of the cave. Wes and the woman (who had given her name as Hedvika in an extremely surly tone) said nothing, but sat back in their corner, tending to her injury.

Rey had her own injury to see to, but she wasn’t sure how she would be able to treat the wound, as she was unable to reach her upper arm easily with both hands. It bled profusely, and she was reminded of the sewing lessons she probably should have taken with Roland to mend the tunic. Such lessons would have come in handy if the wound had been any deeper and needed more serious treatment.

It was an awkward business, trying to push her sleeve up to her shoulder and keep it there so she could rinse and bind the cut, the same hand being required for both tasks. It was at this early stage that Ben sat down beside her, his body facing opposite to her. Without a word, he took the soaked rag out of her hand, held her bunched sleeve up, and wiped away the dried and fresh blood.

“Thank you,” she murmured shyly. The idea of asking for his help genuinely had not occurred to her.

“Just returning the favor,” he replied, keeping his eyes on his work.

She smiled softly at the recollection. “Still, I am thankful, so I may as well say it.” She pursed her lips in humor. “If I remember correctly, you never thanked me that night.”

He looked at her through lowered eyes. “If I remember correctly, you were too annoyed with me to give me the chance.”

Her brow furrowed. “Annoyed?”

“I believe you were scolding me about my mother,” he said flatly, turning his attention back to her arm.

_ Oh. _ “Well, you should have said it, anyway.”

The corner of his mouth lifted a little. “Still scolding, are you?”

“Still not learning common politeness, are you?” she countered.

He took up a jar of Luke’s healing ointment, and opened it with an experimental sniff. Immediately his nose wrinkled, and he dipped his finger in it with a distinct expression of distaste. “I forgot how much this stuff stinks,” he remarked, now dabbing it on her arm. Rey held her breath rather than breathe in more of the pungent smell that emanated from the jar.

“Does it help?” she managed to say.

“Yes,” he answered with a begrudging scowl. He wiped his hand on his pant leg, and closed the lid. He looked at the jar for a moment in silence. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Rey’s breast filled with warmth, but she kept her voice light. “Was that so difficult?”

“No,” he replied firmly, looking her in the eyes. “Just late.”

She nodded, and he reached for a bandage. As he wrapped it around her arm, she looked over at the trio across the way.

“Would you have shot him?” The question escaped her before she could think twice about it.

His face jerked up sharply, but then he cast his own glance over at the smuggling crew. “Yes,” he said, an angry edge in his voice. “If he had done anything to you, yes.”

“And you would have killed him,” she mused softly.

He tied off the bandage securely and looked her in the eyes again. “I don’t miss,” he repeated his terrifying boast, and she repressed a shiver, the warmth in her chest replaced by an empty sadness. How could he provoke such wildly different feelings in her?

“Then I’m glad I was able to punch him before you could,” she said, studying her hands. They were dirty and scratched, but they were something safe to look at.

“So am I,” he replied, surprising her. “I would have done it, but it’s better if we don’t leave a string of bodies along our path.”

She shook her head. Was that all taking a life meant for him? The inconvenience of littering their trail with enemies? “That’s not why I’m glad. I just didn’t want him dead.”

“After what they wanted to do to you?” he asked incredulously.

“I don’t want anybody to die because of me.”

His eyes, angry at first, softened into a kind of sober understanding. “That really is important to you.”

“Of course it is,” she said reproachfully. “Life shouldn’t be so easily discarded.”

“Why?” he asked. “Why is it so important to you?”

The corner of her lip lifted of its own volition. “Wouldn’t any decent person value life?”

“Yes,” he agreed, his eyes intent on her. “But you feel that value more keenly than anybody else I’ve ever known. Why?”

Rey searched his face, looking for the slightest hint of mockery or dismissal. She didn’t find it, only an earnest curiosity and a desperate desire to understand. Had it been so long that he had forgotten that value himself? Beneath his severe strength was something broken, and oh, how she longed for it to be mended. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch his hand, and offer him the same comfort he had given her in the tunnel.

Perhaps he read her intention in her expression, as a shadow clouded his eyes, guarding against entry, and he straightened his back abruptly. She only now realized that, however unconsciously, they had been leaning toward each other. Her eyes flicked briefly to the smugglers, but they were embroiled in their own quiet discussion and had not observed the silent exchange. Her gaze went back to her hands.

“I suppose,” she said slowly, still feeling the need to answer his question, “it’s so important to me because I’ve seen the effects of lost life. I saw . . .” she closed her eyes tightly, wishing to banish the horror she still felt at her memories. “I saw children starve and lovers shrivel away because of death. Not killing, exactly. Just death. It was everywhere, and couldn’t be controlled. And if it’s already so rampant, so strong and destructive, why would anyone add to its numbers by purposely killing another person?

“It’s not just that person whose life is being taken, but the lives of everybody who knows them -- who loves them. What did those others do to deserve the suffering that comes from their loved one being taken away from them? What did those children do wrong that they should be condemned in such a way? A parent shouldn’t be taken from their child,” she asserted firmly and feelingly. “They shouldn’t. We don’t deserve to be left alone. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it.”

“I know,” he said softly.

“No. You don’t,” she contended gently. “No one knows this.”

Rey felt a tear begin to take shape, and hardened her jaw furiously to fight against it, but it won out and spilled down her cheek, anyway. She swiped at it with a shaky hand, not caring if she tracked dirt across her face in the process. Giving way to emotion in front of Ben was embarrassing, but she also didn’t want to bring on the closer attention of the others. Especially not now she was taking the risk of baring her soul.

“I was probably ten years old, and very ill,” she recalled. “I’d never been so sick before; I could hardly move. I probably would have burned away in the sun if Coran and Nemira hadn’t found me. They were smaller than me, maybe five or six. But they ran for their mother, and she carried me back to their home. It was tiny, barely large enough for their bed and table. She put me on that bed, and took care of me.

“When I was well again, the children asked me to stay. Liecia didn’t say much, but she didn’t fight the idea. So I did. And I wanted to believe that I helped. I made myself useful, and thought I was easing Liecia’s burdens. I never asked about her husband, never knew if he had died or abandoned them. But I knew I hated him for being gone, because their life was so hard and Liecia suffered so much to provide for her children.

“But they were a family, for all that. And I came to love them, and hoped they loved me. I couldn’t remember having a family before, and since I finally had one, I wanted to hold on to it. It was the greatest feeling I’d ever known, to be part of that.” The tears were threatening to break free again, and she stopped to breathe slowly, willing the trembling to subside.

“How long did you stay with them?” Ben’s voice rumbled alongside her.

“About half a year, maybe a little less,” she answered shakily. “Liecia had borrowed money from a lump called Plutt. I was wrong,” she said bitterly. “I was more a burden than a help to her, and she didn’t say anything about it until her debt was called in. His goons came for her in the middle of the night, and she told me to stay with the children. They dragged her away, and we never saw her again.”

She looked up at Ben, whose somber eyes met hers steadily.

“But I knew what they did,” she uttered weakly, her voice cracking. “She couldn’t pay them, and there was only one way to get money out of her. I think that’s when I first began to realize how those pleasure houses found their workers.”

Ben watched her silently still, waiting for her to swallow back the acrid taste of disgust at her recollections.

“Liecia had told me once about her cousin, who lived two-days’ walk away. I figured she told me about him in case something like that happened. So I took Coran and Nemira there. I couldn’t tell them what had happened to their mother, and they thought she was gone only for a short time. They weren’t even sad or scared. And they believed that I would stay with them and continue pretending to be their sister.”

She shook her head. “But I knew better. The cousin thanked me for bringing them, but sent me on my way. He wasn’t trying to be cruel, but it was going to be difficult enough for him to take in two more children, let alone three. I couldn’t stay. And all because someone was taken away; she may as well have been killed by Plutt’s thugs.”

Her lips twitched and puckered, and she turned her face to the cave wall, because now the tears were too strong to be fought back against. They flowed freely, and she didn’t even have the drive to wipe them away.

“It was the worst night of my life, the night I said goodbye to them. For a time, I thought I had a family, and it was taken away from me. And I knew then that I never would have a family I could keep. I’d had two, and couldn’t hold on to either of them. I’ve never felt so alone.”

“You’re not alone.” Ben’s whisper was so soft it could scarcely be heard, but she felt it graze along her skin all the same.

She looked up, blinking her tears away slowly to see him more clearly. He had leaned in toward her again, his gaze searching and assuring all at once. She couldn’t imagine doubting him now, and she took firm hold of his words, nestling them securely in her heart. And she knew beyond doubt that what he needed -- no,  _ craved _ \-- was the same thing she had wished for her entire life. There was only one possible response she could give.

“Neither are you.”

* * *

Rey was awakened by a light touch on her shoulder, and jerked upwards with a sharp gasp. In the gray light, Ben’s shadowy figure hunched over her, his hand held up to his lips in a silencing gesture. He jerked his head briefly to the back recess of the cave, and she glanced over to see the smuggling crew fast asleep. She imagined it wouldn’t be long before they woke up, too.

“Time to go,” he whispered in her ear, and moved away swiftly. Rey rubbed her eyes sleepily, then stood wearily, wincing at the pain in her arm. Rolling her shoulders and neck, she tried to wake up the rest of her body.

“Isn’t it early?” she asked quietly, as she walked closer to him and he handed her a portion of cold, greasy meat left over from the previous evening.

“Best to get out of here before we risk whatever tempers they wake up in,” he said with another gesture to the slumbering group.

She bit off a piece of meat, frowning slightly. “I don’t think we have to worry about them.”

“Maybe not for another fight. But they have questions; they wouldn’t stop looking over at us last night. Better to get out before they start to pry.”

Quickly and silently, he strapped on his gear while Rey ate, and when she licked the remaining grease off her fingers, he held up her pack to assist her in putting it on. This was a surprising mark of consideration on his part, and she was struck still for a moment until he shook it impatiently to hurry her along.

Climbing back down the slope was noisier than she expected it to be, probably because they were trying to maintain as quiet an exit as possible, but soon enough they had reached the bottom and were retracing the steps they had taken the previous evening. By the time they emerged from the hidden crevices onto the valley side, morning had dawned, and Rey smiled with a deep, cleansing breath. The sky above was clear with soft hues of pink and blue, and though the cold air persisted, she had a feeling it would be a lovely, sunny day. It had been a long time since she’d been able to enjoy one of those.

After finding a stream to refill their water skins and take care of their morning ablutions, they continued on in a brisk walk. Muddy, snowy paths and aching arm aside, Rey almost felt cheerful. It was a beautiful day, she had slept fairly well after her turn at the watch, and Ben was at her side. It was hard to believe she would come to any harm with him.

She had never spoken of Liecia and her children to anyone before. It was one of those secrets she had even kept from Luke. And it was the chief reason she never wanted to talk about her life in Jakku. Being taken from the place forcibly was still not something she approved of, but that painful experience never ceased to haunt her while she lived there. She had thought it would remain an unspoken chapter of her life, until she felt compelled to share it with Ben.

Over and over he had shown his dedication to her well-being, and despite common sense telling her to keep him at a distance, she simply couldn’t resist the impulse to invite him in. His compassionate response to her tale buoyed her and lightened the aching weight in her heart. To confide in him and make herself vulnerable was a risk, but he rewarded her confidence with understanding and a solemn promise, a kinship she treasured like a precious jewel. She truly couldn’t be alone when he was at her side. And it was this certainty that was behind her pleasant mood as they trekked across the lower mountain path.

They passed the outskirts of a village about mid-morning (Istabith, she assumed from what Marcus had said the night before), and Rey could hear the dull roar of civilization in the distance where the center of the town was. But Ben was intent on moving forward, and there was no stopping until midday, hidden from the valley behind a convenient outcropping of boulders. Rey couldn’t help wondering if this was another one of those well-frequented spots used by the less reputable.

“What do you think they were carrying?” she asked, warming her back on the sun-kissed stone. Ben lifted an eyebrow in question. “Wes’s crew,” she clarified.

He shrugged. “Not sure. Probably alcohol -- bluewine or Kira’s Mead. Those exact a hefty toll at Corellia’s borders.”

“Were they working alone?”

“Hard to say. Most smuggling crews usually run small, but there are a couple gangs that have created networks that span the Realms. They’re not much better than dangerous criminals, really. Trust doesn’t come easy in that line of work, and it’s next to impossible to maintain with a large group spread out. So the gang heads generally are more violent to command loyalty. I don’t see the benefit; it’s too much effort.”

“So if you had been a smuggler, you would have kept a small crew?” Rey speculated with mild amusement.

Ben’s head shot up, a suspicious austerity spreading over his face, a reaction that surprised her until she realized what associations he would make from her question. A part of her wanted to apologize for bringing up a painful subject, but another part kept her silent. She had warned him she wouldn’t avoid the topic of his family, and this was a prime opportunity to steer the conversation to his father. But she judged it best to tread lightly, and didn’t mention Han Solo’s name just yet.

“Even with a small crew,” she mused, keeping her voice casual, “they must have contacts in different places. How would they get clients, otherwise?”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “That’s why I didn’t want to risk staying too long this morning. Who knows what theories they’re floating amongst themselves about us? And if they talk --  _ when _ they talk,” he corrected himself, “that’s when the rumors will spread.”

“And they’ll guess who we are?” she asked with some concern.

“Maybe not Wes’s crew, but somebody could eventually wonder if the missing princess is one of those strangers -- strangers who wouldn’t give their names -- who threatened to cut off Wes’s ear. Most would think it’s an impossible idea, but even one person making that stretch of a guess is enough to set tongues flapping.”

“Then I shouldn’t have let them stay last night,” Rey concluded regretfully.

“And I shouldn’t have shot an arrow into that woman’s hand,” Ben replied ironically. “Don’t blame yourself. We both took conspicuous actions. Your inviting them to stay was probably wise. It might keep their mouths shut out of gratitude, and it didn’t send them out to immediately spread word that a couple of bloodthirsty travelers are camping out in the caves.

“But no matter the consequences of coming across them, it’s best to get as far from the source of gossip as quickly as possible. And hope the weather cooperates so we can clear more distance.”

Rey couldn’t disagree with that assessment. But she chewed on the inside of her lip all the same as she considered their encounter.

“What is it?” Ben asked, and she jerked her head up in silent inquiry. He gave her an amused look. “When you bite your lip like that, you’re trying to figure something out in your head, or you have something you’re wondering if you should say.”

Rey’s eyes widened in embarrassment, and she immediately loosened her teeth’s grip. She knew she occasionally gave way to the habit, but didn’t know that it was such a common occurrence that he would have noticed it. He chuckled lightly at her reaction, but said nothing else about it.

Once she was sure she’d beaten back the urge to blush, she said, “I was wondering if all smugglers are like that. So quick to fight, I mean. They must be, from what you say about them.”

He squinted a little, his expression noncommittal. “It takes all kinds.”

“Was Han Solo like that?”

The color drained from his pale face in a flash, and he gave full rein to the guarded anger that had threatened a few minutes earlier. “Why do you want to know about him?”

“He was your father,” Rey pointed out, steeling herself for another fight.

There was the barest twitch under his eye, but otherwise he kept that stony exterior that she had to remind herself not to back down from. “Once,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Once he was my father.”

Rey imagined that most people would hear only the anger in his voice, but she was certain she heard regret and longing, as well. “So, was he? Like the other smugglers?”

Again he took a long time to answer, an inner struggle taking place within him to which she wished she had admittance. “No. He wasn’t like them,” he finally said. “He would try to charm people before going in for a fight. Most of the time he succeeded. He was a charismatic man, and could carry on a conversation even with his enemies.”

Ben looked away, and Rey could see him steadying himself. She was almost sorry that she wouldn’t give him a respite from the subject. “And he was the one who showed you all these places? He’s how you know about the caves,” she pressed.

“Yes,” he replied shortly, a hint of annoyance added to his cold manner.

“Did you come here often?”

He exhaled loudly through his nose, a slight tremble in his shoulders. “No, not often. There wasn’t a lot of time for . . . father-son excursions,” he bit out the words.

Rey had too many questions, but she gave voice to the one that, to her, was the most important. “Do you miss him?”

The steel flint of his eyes evaporated, and a haunting anguish overcame them before he looked away again. Perhaps she had pushed too far. And then, in a stark whisper, his tortured reply came. “Every day.”

Was it possible for her heart to swell and shatter at the same time? She couldn’t leave him alone after a confession like that, and stood to reach out to him. But the instant she moved, he shot to his own feet and threw out his hand to stop her.

“Don’t!” he blurted out, his voice still raspy.

“Ben, I just -” she started to explain.

“Just. Don’t,” he repeated, his eyes growing hooded. “Don’t try to understand. Don’t try to comfort me. And don’t call me that name.”

She’d not forgotten his reaction when she had used his full name, but his order was a shock, considering how often she’d still called him simply ‘Ben’ without comment. “But it’s your name,” she insisted, taking a step toward him.

He shook his head manically. “No. It’s not. I forfeited that name when I killed my father five and a half years ago. I stopped being his son that day.”

Rey sighed in heartache. “You didn’t kill him.”

“You weren’t there,” he said with an ugly glare.

“Your mother was,” she replied quickly. “She told me. She told me everything that happened. You weren’t the one who killed him.”

“I as good as killed him. If I hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have -” he stopped himself, as though his air was cut off.

“He was a good man who wanted his son to come home,” Rey said, stepping forward again. He didn’t back away this time. “What happened to him was not your fault. You weren’t responsible. It isn’t too late. You can come home again. Your mother -”

“Stop!” he interrupted, his eyes turning more wild. Rey stopped her advance, and watched him heave shuddering breaths as he fought himself for control. She was dismayed to see his expression toughen and become more rigid.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he said. “Trying to turn me into some good man, like Han Solo was. You’ve tricked yourself into believing I’m some sort of hero. I’m not. I’m the furthest thing from it you can get.”

“You’re not,” Rey argued, matching his obstinacy with a determined look of her own. “You can try and convince yourself you’re the devil, but you’ll be wrong.”

Now he began to close the distance between them, stalking forward forcefully. “I’m not a good man,” he contended. “A good man wouldn’t bring about his own father’s death.”

He was directly in front of her, his eyes searing into hers. “A villain wouldn’t help me escape,” she said, her breaths coming in faster. “Look at what you’ve done for me.”

His lip curled in a sneer. “That’s a poor example.”

“Why?” she pleaded.

“It just is. You can take my word for it. I don’t lie.”

Again that urge to slap him rose within her, but she didn’t give way to it. He might need some sense knocked into him, but she wouldn’t resort to violence to do it. She held her firm stare as she said once more, “You shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened to your father.”

A strange desperation crept into his face. “Then who should I blame?”

The answer sprang easily to her lips. “Snoke. He orchestrated everything, didn’t he? He put you there. He knew that battle would be what cut you off from your family.”

“Yes, but I didn’t have to listen to him, did I?” he countered furiously; she could feel his hot breath. “And ever since then, nothing I’ve done is anything Han Solo would do. I haven’t been his son. I’m not Ben Solo.”

“You’re not Kylo Ren, either!” Rey exclaimed just as angrily. “Whoever he is supposed to be.” She waved her hands around wildly to stop herself from taking his shirt into her hands and shaking him. “Whatever Snoke wanted you to be, you’re not him.”

“But I was,” his voice lowered dangerously, and he leaned in. “You know that I was.”

“That man is not who I see now,” she proclaimed quietly, tilting her face up to his in challenge. “The man I see now is capable of good. I know it.”

His eyes flitted over her face, and he swallowed. Then took a step back. Rey immediately felt the cold air envelop her body again.

Ben looked at her quietly for another moment. “Don’t make me into a hero,” he finally said, his voice now dull, all fight in him gone. “It’s not what I am.” He backed away a few more steps, and, sitting back down in the place he’d flown up from, he faced away from her.

“Han Solo’s son died with him,” he declared hopelessly.


	19. Apology and Astronomy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are high, but our two stubborn dears have a couple of ways to diffuse them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance if you know anything about astronomy. I don't, but I couldn't get this particular nugget out of my head, and with this being a fantasy world, it's not our sky. You'll see what I mean.

One way or another, serenity and calm were not feelings that Rey could experience in Ben Solo’s company. He was simply incapable of moderation, and her mood was directly influenced by him. Soaring into the highest elevations when he seemed so attuned to her, sinking into the lowest depths when he was determined to languish in despair. His dogged insistence in viewing himself as a villain frustrated her to no end. She didn’t speak of it, but she certainly argued with him in her mind. Even though she didn’t say his name out loud, she repeated it to herself as often as possible when she thought about him. Which, of course, was all the time, a circumstance she found distinctly unfair, considering the past couple of days since their argument were utterly tense and uncomfortable.

Ben’s actions as they trudged along the trails were unchanged, and they made good time, but there was no possibility of drawing him out again. He spoke only when absolutely necessary, and the only time he came near her again was when he changed the wrappings on her arm. He had retreated within himself, and she hated the feeling of loneliness and despair that prevailed in quiet moments.

When a late snowstorm trapped them for a day, the silence was oppressive, and Rey was sure she couldn’t bear it much longer. Their food supply was running low, as well, which only served to sour her mood. Ben was probably just as aware of the deficiency, but offered no discussion on the matter, even as necessary as it was. Rey’s temper was stretched thin, and if he continued to do his level-best to ignore her, she just might lash out.

Once they were on the move again, they were hampered by the thick snowcover, and were forced to move lower into the valley to keep up a decent pace. Ben shot a bird or two along the way, but how he intended for them to cook the meat without finding dry wood for a fire, she had no idea. Rey was ready to scream that mid-afternoon, when, thankfully, she caught a row of distant buildings in her line of sight. Ben saw them, too, and immediately changed course to avoid them.

This was the last straw for Rey’s empty stomach and barely existent patience. “Oh, no,” she said without preamble. “No, we are not going to keep punishing ourselves. We’re going there.”

“We need to find shelter,” he argued back, his expression set. “We can’t take lodgings in a public place.”

“And I’m not suggesting we do,” she replied through gritted teeth. “But we need food, more than what we’ve got. You know that.”

He shook his head. “Shelter first, then we’ll worry about food.”

“No!” she exclaimed, grabbing hold of his sleeve so he couldn’t turn away. “Food first. I can’t go on much longer on the little we’ve got. You said yourself we’d have to restock along the way. Well, now we have to restock.”

Ben exhaled stubbornly. “I’m not leaving you alone here.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying here by myself,” Rey replied snidely.

“You shouldn’t be seen.”

“That’s a change of tune from your cocky attitude at Luke’s house,” she said with a challenging lift of her brow.

“Well, circumstances change,” he responded firmly.

He was being completely unreasonable, and Rey wasn’t having it. “Yes, but the fact that we need food doesn’t change. We’ll both go,” she ordered decisively.

They stood there, both staring the other down in a silent battle of wills. But Ben relented first. “Fine,” he huffed with a childish scowl.

Then he stalked away, Rey close at his heels. She couldn’t even enjoy winning the argument; his angry moping threw a wet blanket over everything. Besides, she was so hungry, she couldn’t concentrate on much more than getting something in her stomach.

The buildings she had seen were the outskirts of a sizable town, which was a relief. If it had been a small village, they may not have had much luck in finding supplies. And once they were on the criss-crossing roads of the town, it wasn’t too difficult to find their way to the market center, though who was leading whom was another battle they fought without words.

Rey didn’t miss the questioning looks on the faces of people they passed, the more numerous the closer they got to the market square. She saw mouths begin to shape greetings, then clamp shut when the strangers got a good look at the threatening expression on Ben’s face. Rey huffed a little, pressing her lips into a thin line, and the moment the streets opened up into the square, stalls and shops lining the cobble-stone edges, she stepped directly in his way, making him nearly stumble into her.

“You’d be a little less conspicuous if you at least appeared to be a friendly person,” Rey observed, her hands on her hips.

His face showed no sign of changing. “I haven’t the gift of pretending,” he muttered quietly.

“Then maybe you’d better keep your distance so the people don’t see your scowl up close,” Rey suggested, her eyes narrowed at him. She held out her hand. “I’ll handle the transactions. I can actually do more than glower.”

“I don’t glower,” he argued, immediately proving himself wrong.

“Oh, yes, you do,” she asserted. “And you know it. And what’s more, you’re proud of it because it scares people away. But in this instance, it’s just going to draw attention. So let me manage the supplies.”

His mouth worked in every direction as he met her gaze, then shook his head. Now she could enjoy a little triumph as he dropped the money sack into her outstretched hand. “Don’t expect me to keep my distance,” he warned.

“Oh, no,” Rey exaggerated her distress, “I would never expect that of you.” She spun on her heel and began taking stock of the wares offered.

The past two nights had been bitterly cold, and she was tempted by the fur-lined cloaks displayed in a shop window, but she reminded herself that winter was drawing to a close, despite the freak storm the day before, and clothing wasn’t on the list. She made various purchases, all with Ben shadowing her every move. And although she resisted the furs, there was no denying the way her mouth salivated at the delicious smells emanating from a small bakery, a popular establishment by the looks of it.

The woman running the shop was a portly, red-cheeked sort, who gave a bright, though weary, smile to Rey when she stepped inside.

“Not much left, I’m afraid, dearie,” she began. “A bit late in the day for the savories. But there’re still biscuits and a couple of barley loaves left if you don’t mind the more simple fare.”

Rey returned the smile. It was getting nearer to dinner, and the shops must be closing up soon. “This is plenty for me to choose from, thank you,” she returned politely. She made her choices quickly, hoping Ben lingering in the doorway wasn’t too much of a distraction for the baker.

It didn’t seem to be, as the woman wrapped up the loaves she picked and handed them over. But she didn’t leave him unmentioned. “Your young man isn’t a trusting sort, is he -- hanging on behind you at every turn?” she asked, her voice lowered conspiratorially.

Rey turned her head to look at him, wondering if he heard. His eyes were fixed on the square outside and he gave no indication that he was listening. Turning back to the woman, she decided not to bother contradicting the assumption she had made. “He’s . . . protective.”

“Ah,” the woman replied with a shrewd nod of her head. “That’s to be expected, in such times. Winter’s dying down, and recruitment will be picking back up again, even in these parts.”

Rey couldn’t pretend not to know what the woman meant. It would have been suspicious to do so, anyway. “Has there been any change lately, any word?” She tried to do her best to appear concerned and interested in the way any average citizen would.

“Not much, although what has trickled through about Naboo hasn’t been pleasant, has it? Hard to know what to think, what with that missing princess and war on the horizon,” the woman responded sadly.

“It isn’t easy to fight in another country’s war,” Rey suggested softly.

“No. I feel for them, I do. And I understand the queen’s decision. Most do. But . . .” she didn’t finish her thought. She didn’t need to for Rey to understand the complicated feelings she must have. If only she could offer her some assurance that the princess she referred to was doing everything within her power to protect them. All she could do was hand over the coin and ask where she could find a hot meal. The baker gave her the direction to a tavern in the next street, and she made her goodbyes.

Ben didn’t share her enthusiasm for a decent bite. “We need to find a place to shelter,” he reminded her in a murmur.

“Food first,” Rey repeated, walking past him with her head held high. “I’ve waited long enough for it.”

He halted in his tracks. “Stubborn, aren’t you?” he questioned, and she couldn’t quite tell if he said it in frustration or admiration. She turned back to face him.

“And you’re not?” she rejoined pointedly.

“No. I’m obstinate,” he replied with the hint of a smirk.

“And there’s a difference?”

“A vast difference.”

“And that is . . .” she left her comment open for him to finish.

He paused. “One is what I am, and the other is what you are.”

“Illuminating,” she remarked shortly. “Come on.”

The smells and warmth of the tavern were not as cheerful or friendly as the bakery had been, but they were no less welcome. Ben found a table in the darkest corner, naturally, while Rey ordered food, and before long, she was enjoying her first good meal in a week, a hot stew all the more satisfying considering her former freezing state.

Ben hunched over his bowl, and as Rey’s spirits improved as her belly filled, her ire with him dissipated. Isolated as they were, it was easy to forget the purpose of their journey in daily troubles. Their personal squabble wasn’t insignificant, but Rey was reminded during her conversation with the baker that people had different experiences in general, and Ben’s life specifically had been shaped in harrowing ways. She still wanted his life to be made right and for him to reconcile with his family, but his guilty feelings over his father’s death were a powerful obstacle. And what more had he done that he was ashamed of? Perhaps her manner of offering support could be modified so that he wouldn’t react like a wounded animal.

She could at least not pick a fight with him when he had genuine reason to be cautious in a strange town.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly.

His reaction was immediate. “What did you just say?” his head jerking up, his expression disbelieving, but with a hint of a smile that provoked her. He heard her just fine, and she wouldn’t dignify his question with a repetition of her apology.

“I’ll take it back,” she warned with a dirty look.

“No, no,” he spoke quickly, dropping his spoon and holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I heard you. What for?” She threw him another dirty look, and he replied in feigned exasperation. “What? You expect me to read your mind?”

She breathed slowly, trying not to rise to his bating. But he spoke again before she could say anything, his voice quieter with a gentleness that surprised her. “I’m sorry for getting angry at you,” he murmured, averting his eyes. “For yelling. Whatever my difficulties are, they are my own, and you’re not to blame for my history.”

“I didn’t think you spoke to me like you blamed me. I do think you spoke to me as though it was none of my business.” He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Which maybe it isn’t,” she admitted meekly. “I stand by what I said, but I know I pushed too hard. I never meant to start an argument.”

He nodded shortly. “Accepted.”

She began to bite the inside of her lip, then immediately left off. She didn’t want to arm him with more to tease her. “I care about your family, Ben.” Instantly his eyes darkened dangerously. “I told you, I stand by what I said before,” she stated stubbornly, “and I’m not ever going to call you Kylo.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever you call me, you probably shouldn’t use either of my names in public,” he reminded her, more annoyed than angry.

He was right, and she pushed back a blush at her lapse. “All right. Fine. Point taken.” She plowed ahead, unwilling to leave this unsaid, hoping it wouldn’t spark another blaze of fury. “What I was saying is that I care about your family. Your mother. Your godfather, if that’s what Chewie is.” He breathed out the smallest chuckle. “And your uncle. And I know they care for you and want you to come home. If I can convince you to do it, I see it as my way of repaying them for everything they’ve done for me.”

Fortunately, he didn’t react the way he had a few days earlier. Instead he looked at her steadily, his expression skeptical. “You think you can do the impossible?”

_ “You _ think I can do the impossible,” she pointed out, and his brow furrowed curiously. “Look at what you talked me into, why we’re traveling together in the first place,” she reminded him. “If I have other goals along the way, I’m not going to be sidetracked from them, either.”

That upper lip of his curled again, rueful and amused. “You’re too much like Luke. Believing you can guide me on the path of redemption.”

“You’re too much like him, too, disputing everything I say and being a surly nuisance to boot,” she replied, letting a little playfulness into her tone.

Ben didn’t argue her assessment of him. “He disputed everything?” he asked with a slight smile.

“Well, he’s certainly contrary, even when he agrees with me,” Rey recalled fondly.

“He liked you,” Ben stated decisively.

“Do you think so?”

“You don’t think so?” he countered.

“No,” she conceded, and she saw his features soften. “I knew he grew to care for me, and wanted what was right for me. But that didn’t necessarily mean he liked me.”

He shook his head swiftly. “He liked you; I could tell. He likes being around people he can argue with.”

She gave him a curious look. “So does that mean he didn’t always ignore you?” He immediately gave her a withering stare. “I’m not going to ask about you trying to kill each other; I’ve learned my lesson about prying.”.

His nose wrinkled and he sat back in his chair. “It depended on the day,” he said, his voice subdued. “Some days there was nothing. And others, we would debate over some inconsequential thing. Never anything relevant to why I was sent there. Safe topics. Those arguments were almost enjoyable.”

Rey thought of their farewell that had been so bewildering. “Like the Shadow?” He gave her a sharp look. “Your bizarre goodbye to him. It seemed like . . .”

He nodded in remembrance. “Yes. I had to get one jab in at him after he accused me of losing my edge.”

“What is it? The Shadow?”

His gaze drifted far away, a combination of melancholy and memory in his eyes. “It’s Ren.”

_ What? _ she wondered. That was a name she associated only with his knights.

His eyes lowered for a moment, and without even looking at her, he seemed to sense her confusion. That small smile played on his lips again. “First clear night we get, I’ll show you.”

* * *

That first clear night ended up being the next one. Cold winds had blown all day, which had made for less than a pleasant experience as they traversed the crunchy snow that had melted and then iced over again. A restored sense of trust and camaraderie with Ben wasn’t enough to entirely distract Rey from the toils of the terrain. She lost her balance a few times and caught herself on jagged edges of frozen ground that felt like tiny knives on her skin. She was fed, but she was frigid. The effect of the winds, though, was such as to sweep the clouds away, and once they had found a place to camp for the night, Ben led her to a higher ridge where the starlit sky opened up to view.

She sat reluctantly with a shiver, drawing her cloak around her tightly. The winds had died down, but sundown was far past. Whatever Ben had to say, it had better be worth delaying the warmth of a fire.

He sat beside her, his head tilted upward, studying the sky above. She copied his movements, trying to pinpoint where exactly his gaze was directed. Not very possible in the dark. It wasn’t long before he pointed upward, leaning in toward her so that she could follow the line of his arm to where he wished her to look.

“Do you see the curve of stars there?” It took a few moments, but she did see a dotting of stars that, if joined by a line, would make a modest curve. What did stargazing have to do with anything?

“And a horizontal line that meets it at the lower end?” he continued. She did. He’d better get to the point soon. “They’re the edges of a cloak,” he stated.

Was she supposed to comment on that? “Oh,” she said dully.

She could almost see his familiar smirk. “Generations ago, there was a star that was in the middle of that cluster there,” he pointed to a circle of stars just beside the curved line he had shown her. “Ancient astronomers named it Kira. She was the queen of stars, and that circle was her crown.” There was a hint of wonder in his voice, and it was catching. Rey could feel herself growing less annoyed and more interested.

“There was practically a religion devoted to her; myths and stories sprang up of the great and powerful queen she was, and how she ruled the night sky. Other constellations were all just a part of her story, pets and tools, consorts and enemies. Then one day, Kira was gone. Astronomers couldn’t come up with an explanation for why she disappeared, but there was no sign of the star that so many revered.”

“What happened to her?” Rey asked.

Ben turned his face to her. “There was no logical explanation. We can map the stars and planets, find patterns and observe their splendor, but we don’t know what they really are, or how they come into being. Or how they die. Perhaps one day we will. But until then, we have the myths to explain more mundane phenomena.”

“And what do the myths say?” she inquired with a small smile. The way Ben spoke of the sky was fascinating, the lilting flow of his voice a stark difference to his usual blunt manner.

“It was Cyril, the great story-teller, who first began to speak of the Shadow that had always been at Kira’s back. The cloak,” Ben clarified, gesturing to the line of stars he had begun with. “Oral tradition was the chief way stories were circulated then, and this one spread like wildfire. The Shadow, called Ren, who had never left Kira’s side, who was the darkness to her light, had taken her into the folds of his cloak.”

Rey’s mouth dropped open. “Why?” she asked breathlessly. Rationally she knew it was a mere tale, but in Ben’s voice it was a true mystery.

“That’s the enigma of Cyril’s telling. Kira, the powerful queen, was beset by many rivals who wanted to take her power, and she found herself alone with Ren. What he offered her only they knew, but the messengers of the sky saw her disappear into his darkness, hidden behind his Shadow. So she became known as the Lost Queen, or the Hidden Queen, depending on the telling.

“But because Cyril’s tale, in its original form, was never written, we still don’t know if Kira went willingly or if Ren took her forcibly. He could have simply been the most powerful of her enemies and was the one who ultimately succeeded in besting her.”

“Or he wanted to hide her from her other enemies, and took her under his protection,” Rey surmised, remembering Ben and Luke’s exchange.

Dimly illuminated by moonlight, she saw him nod. “And debate has raged on ever since of Ren’s motives, if he was friend or foe to the Hidden Queen. University scholars and astronomy-loving priests have sought out the earliest manuscripts of the legend to discover what Cyril intended their relationship to be. None have made conclusive arguments one way or the other, though most believe Ren’s was a malevolent intent.”

“But you believe he was a protector,” Rey asserted.

Ben didn’t move or speak, but she knew she was right. And, fascinating story aside, it gave an entirely new perspective to the name he had taken.

“Your knights?” she probed tentatively.

“I named them,” he said softly. “I never viewed myself as a harbinger of light. And when I cast aside my old life, I decided I needed a fitting name. The Knights were not intended to be a force of evil, though it makes sense that we were viewed that way soon enough. What we were tasked with, as well as the general associations with the name. After all, very few now will still argue that Ren never intended harm to Kira.”

Rey pondered his words, allowing herself to bite her lip in the safety of darkness. “Why do you think he hid her?”

“I think,” he said slowly, “he loved her.”

They sat there in peaceful quiet for a few minutes, watching the sky glitter above them. But soon enough the chill broke the spell of Ben’s story, and Rey was ready to return to their designated shelter for the night and feel the fire’s flame lick warmth back into her fingers. It was slow and slick coming back down, but Ben held her steady when she came close to stumbling.

The rest of the evening passed in contemplative silence, a silence not nearly as oppressive as the angry quiet that had reigned a few nights previous. Rey took her turn at building the fire, and they ate and watched the flames dance and die. And every once in a while, Rey would steal a glance at Ben, wondering what he might have been had he not been born to legends, with the fate of nations on his shoulders. Would he have cloistered away in one of the southern universities, happy to bury his shaggy head in a stack of parchment, looking for answers to the mysteries of the world? Would he have been a scoundrel-smuggler like his father, talking circles around foolish associates and wooing women with stirring myths of the stars? Would they have even met had either of them been born to an ordinary life?

If there was one thing Rey knew, she was not sorry that the circumstances of her strange life had thrown Ben into her path. She didn’t want to imagine a life where she never knew him and never heard him tell the story of Kira and Ren.

“I’ll take first watch tonight,” he said, still watching the fire. “I’m not tired.”

Rey nodded and shifted around, realizing how uncomfortable she had grown in her stationary position on the hard ground. “Thanks,” she uttered quietly, and removed her belt, setting the sword and knife at her side.

She lay down with her back to the fire, and shivered again. A hint of annoyance crawled into her consciousness, as she thought to herself that this cold snap had better shove off. She squeezed her eyes shut and burrowed herself into her cloak.

A moment later, she felt the unmistakable weight of a heavy piece of cloth laid on top of her legs. With a jerk, she lifted herself up on her elbow to find Ben’s hands at her shoulders, his fingers letting go of his cloak as it draped over the rest of her body. He knelt beside her, and his face was mere inches from hers. For a moment, she was frozen there, watching him look at her, his dark eyes a complex jumble it would take hours to untangle. Her free hand twitched, almost daring to touch the angular planes of his face or the loose strands of hair that fell into his eyes.

But he drew back a moment before she found the courage, and he moved around the fire without a word. Whatever she had been about to do, he wouldn’t allow. Rey lowered herself back to the ground, stung and disappointed. And then she felt again the added pressure and warmth of his cloak, which lessened the sting.

_ Protector, indeed. _


	20. The Question of Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben fills in the last piece of the puzzle, and Rey makes a plea.

The weather, thankfully, did take a turn once more, and this time, it was a more permanent change. Snow melted, making the trails muddy once more, but Rey was relieved that the wind would no longer be assailing her with frigid fingers. Instead, light breezes kicked up that pleasantly cooled her heated body as they worked their way along. The occasional day was overcast and gray, but no rain ever came down. And the situation with Ben was both improving and galling.

Upon discovering that his warrior frame housed a scholarly mind, Rey was eager to find out what else inspired that wondrous quality in his voice she had heard underneath the night sky. She asked him about his studies as a boy, and he was quick to reply, his answers no longer clipped or irritated. Perhaps it was because this was one of those safe topics he had mentioned, but his openness in such topics led him to acknowledge a little more freely the relationships he had left behind so long before. When Rey mentioned his mother, he no longer bit back, and he stopped rolling his eyes when Luke’s name entered the conversation.

Not that Ben was doing all the talking. He asked her questions just as often as she asked him, seeking her opinion on what she had studied during her time at Luke’s, drawing out her observations of court in both Naboo and Alderaan, and even gently prying out more stories about her life in Jakku. Rey would have thought that every recollection would have been painful to share, but cheerful memories began to surface, and even the unhappy stories didn’t smart so sharply when she spoke of them to Ben. He had a way of listening to her that was not in the least judgmental or mocking, but poignantly perceptive, as though he understood her even without words.

But as much as this strengthened bond with him was precious to her, there was no missing the careful distance he kept. Her interest in him must have become apparent and he didn’t want to encourage it. He might be willing to cultivate a sort of friendship, but clearly he was not interested in pursuing anything beyond it. When he handed her the crossbow for shooting practice, he allowed their hands to touch for only a brief moment before stepping back. He would correct her technique from afar. When they sat beside each other at night, he always managed to sit just out of reach. He was never unkind, but he was consistently removed.

Rey tried not to be offended by his behavior; they were both less practiced at friendships to begin with, and she knew that he was revealing things about himself he had long kept quiet. Namely, that there was a deeply feeling, inquiring, studious soul that dwelt in this soldier’s body. In his own way, he was trying to be kind in his subtle rejection. But a rejection it still was. And it rankled at her when she would recall the way his eyes would trap hers.

She knew it wouldn’t be much longer before they would reach Naboo, and the manner of their journey would drastically change, the need for secrecy and concealment far more imperative. So, despite her grievances, she tried to enjoy what he did offer. It became a habit to search out the night skies, and Ben would tell her the legends of the constellations, his voice melodious and captivating. She, in turn, would fill in the gaps of the stories he told, imagining stories in between the great doings of the celestial beings that sparkled above them. Some tales she thought up were almost ridiculous in their plotting, and she loved to hear Ben chuckle at the twists and turns she conjured. She was glad to think he was happy in her company. Though she still had never seen a full smile or heard a real laugh from him yet. She was beginning to think she never would.

After many days of exhausting travel, Ben shifted course away from the mountains, and turned southwest. And grateful as Rey was to get away from the constant muck under their feet, for the mud never seemed to dry on the mountain paths, she knew this meant they were almost to Bacca, and the pass to Naboo was frighteningly near. Her chest tightened with anxiety, and her thoughts became muddled as she remembered yet again that the purpose of her journey was not to embroil herself more deeply with Ben Solo.

The scenery began to change, and she even recognized some parts of the Bacca valley as it opened up to view beyond the rocky ridge they had to climb. The pastureland was still the deadened white-yellow of late winter, but she thought she could see hints of green that meant spring was just around the corner. Chewie’s manor was a distant dot below the line of the hills that intensified the nerves in her breast, and the setting sun behind them threw brilliant indigo and magenta streaks into the sky.

Ben directed her down to a copse of trees at the bottom of the ridge, and they settled themselves in for the night. There would be no fire, not with how easily detectable it would be with the open fields around them, but they had enough cover for now. Ben took out his whetstone and began silently drawing the edges of his knife along it, sharpening and testing the blade with his thumb. His face was withdrawn and serious, as though he had also just come to the realization that the more difficult part of their journey was about to begin. And he would not be caught unprepared.

Rey couldn’t bear the silence for long. She needed distraction.

“It’s so different,” she observed, hoping her voice didn’t wobble. She wanted very much to appear collected and calm. “When I rode through these parts last summer, everything was green. Even the rocks.”

Ben lowered his hands briefly, looked around, and replied, “It’ll look that way again soon enough.”

“I assume you’ve been here before,” Rey ventured carefully. He had been reacting more calmly when she mentioned his former life, but she wasn’t sure if the closer proximity to one of his abandoned family would make his feelings more volatile.

“A few times,” he said. “If my parents hadn’t married, my . . . Han wouldn’t have gone legitimate, if he’d stayed a bachelor. But this line of work was tempting to him, and Chewie made a successful go of it. I barely left the capital with him, but if I did, it was to come here.”

“Is it strange?” Rey asked. “Traveling to these places you know, in this land you -” she bit her tongue before she said something offensive.

He glanced at her with an odd mix of humor and irony. “In this land I was meant to be king over?” She blushed a little at how easily and correctly he finished her sentence. “The irony isn’t lost on me, Highness. I was supposed to rule this land, and here I am, skulking about like a common criminal.”

“You wouldn’t have to skulk if you revealed yourself to your mother,” Rey said. He scoffed a little at the argument that was becoming second nature to them now.

“That wouldn’t change the future of Alderaan,” he replied. “I was divested of my title when she named Dameron her heir, and that won’t change, even if I did go back to her.”

“Do you want it back?” she asked quietly. This was a line of questioning she had never pursued, and she hesitated to bring it up.

Ben went still, as he was wont to do when confronted with an uncomfortable question. “I don’t know,” he said pensively. “I still have the same ambitions and desires I had then.” He shook his head quickly. “Well, not the same ones. There’s been too much . . . Going back to what I was before is impossible, and to have the same goals would be foolish. But sometimes you can’t beat down the impulses that have been with you all your life, even if you know they’re never going to come to fruition the way you planned.”

“Do you need to beat those impulses down?” Rey wondered aloud.

“When your ambition leads to your father’s death, it casts the blind pursuit of power in a different light,” he quipped sardonically. Rey’s eyes faltered, and he sighed. “No. I don’t want it back. I left the throne behind, and I shouldn’t be rewarded with it. Not even if I reconciled with my mother the way you want me to.”

Rey sat there for a moment in contemplation and regret. It was such a waste that Ben’s gifts should go unused, but if she said so, he would probably argue that he had squandered those gifts. She could perceive his point, but just the same she wished there was some way that, when all this was over, he could be in some position where others could still benefit from the workings of his mind. Directed in the right way, he could do so much good.

“Is it strange for  _ you _ to hide away?” his voice broke into her thoughts. “You’ve been here, and stayed with Chewie . . . and his wife,” he added belatedly, a look of slight amazement crossing over his features.

“Have you met Maz?” she asked, glad for the change in topic.

“No,” he shook his head. “They haven’t been married long. I heard her name countless times growing up, but never met her.”

“She’s a forceful woman,” Rey said. “Not unkind, but used to giving orders. I like her.”

“I hear she’s not terribly . . .” he trailed off uncertainly, raising his hand from the ground to indicate height.

“She’s miniscule,” Rey said with an amused grin. “Anybody would look small next to Chewie, but he dwarfs her; she could easily vanish when they’re together. I think it says a lot about her that she doesn’t disappear when she’s next to him.”

“It’s bizarre to think of Chewie being married,” Ben said, still with that look of bemusement. “He and Luke always seemed to be recluses. And even though they stayed put most of the time, they gave me the impression that they were nomads. Of course, Luke wasn’t a bachelor like Chewie. But sometimes it’s easy to forget that,” he reflected, sitting back.

“You never met Mara?”

Even in the fading light, Rey saw Ben’s wince. “I did. A few times. All very brief meetings when they were on the move. But I was very young, and I didn’t really know her.”

Ben’s voice diminished, and Rey thought she could detect some remorse in his reference to his aunt. She wondered what kind of insight Mara would have had into his situation. Perhaps Ben lamented the lack of her counsel, as well. Surely he didn’t miss the similarities Rey had discovered between them. If Mara had lived, how would Ben’s experience with Luke have changed?

“I sort of wish I could have met her,” she mused. “Luke certainly loved her.”

There was silence in the darkening grove, and Rey cocked her head. She had expected some kind of response. “Ben?”

He heaved a sigh. “Yes,” he said tightly. “Luke loved her. If he hadn’t . . . well, it’s too late to change the past.”

Despite Rey’s desire to not begin a fight, she couldn’t help asking, “What happened?”

“I thought you learned your lesson about prying,” he reminded her.

“That was at least a fortnight ago,” she quipped. “Things change.”

“Are you sure you want to know?” he asked, with the air of one who knew she wouldn’t like what she heard.

“Yes,” she said firmly.

“And you never asked Luke what happened between us?”

“No.”

She heard a small exhale, a bitter chuckle. “And you’re just going to take my word for it, that what I tell you isn’t just my side of the story?”

She leaned forward, unsure if he could see the resolve in her eyes. “I trust you. I trust your word. I understand that sometimes you refuse to tell me something, but you’ve never lied to me. I know that whatever you tell me, it’s what happened.”

Rey could see pinpricks of light reflecting in his eyes as he stared at her, likely in disbelief. But she kept her gaze steady. She wouldn’t devalue her words by looking away now.

She heard his intake of breath, and settled in. She’d waited for months for this story.

“It was the letters,” Ben began, but then his breath hitched. “No. It . . . I’ll go further back. No doubt -- no doubt -- my mother told you about my dissatisfaction with the Alderaanian court.”

“She may have mentioned it,” Rey said shyly.

“My distaste for it was more than just how slowly everything worked. I had a difficult time finding a place there. I could think like my mother but I had none of her diplomacy. I could fight like my father but I didn’t have his blasted charm. If I was anything like Luke, nobody would ever believe it -- he was a perfect, untouchable legend and I was too close and too much. It wasn’t a comfortable position, being the son and nephew of heroes and failing to live up to everybody’s expectations.

“I tried. But the failings of court were just the final straw in a lifetime of resentment, and I wanted something more, something where I was myself without the burden of familial prestige. And that’s when Snoke wrote to me. He didn’t have a sterling reputation in the Realms then, but he hadn’t revealed himself fully for what he was, and what he offered me . . . I thought it was what I wanted.”

“Which was?” Rey prompted.

“Power.”

“You were going to be a king!” she exclaimed incredulously. “What more did you need?”

“It was different. Yes, I would be king, but a king bound by procedure and politics and laws that I struggled against. It wouldn’t be the kind of ultimate authority I wanted, to effect change without having to answer to anyone.”

“So you wanted to be a tyrant,” Rey summarized disapprovingly.

“I had no intention of using my authority to harm others; I just wanted to be able to do what I thought was right without the toadies and committees and corruption I saw every day. Does that seem so unreasonable?”

“No,” she admitted. Hadn’t she herself joked that government would move more swiftly with a single head rather than many?

“And that’s what Snoke offered me. A chance to be part of a new order, a place where I would actually have a voice and the authority to put my ideas and policies into effect. I believed I would be his successor.”

“You never suspected Snoke’s motives for seeking you out?” Rey asked tentatively.

“I was foolish and wouldn’t let myself suspect,” Ben recalled bitterly. “He flattered me and gratified my pride. The rational part of me knew there had to be some catch, but I didn’t want to give up the boost to my vanity that someone finally appreciated me, regardless of my name or heritage. I justified it more with his arguments that my own grandfather had served for many years in such a position as he would give me, and I began to parrot Snoke’s teachings in my own words.”

“You believed he didn’t want you for your name, and then used your grandfather as an argument to join him?” she asked. “That didn’t seem . . .?”

“Incongruous?” he finished sourly.

“I would have chosen a less sophisticated word,” Rey confessed.

“I wanted to believe him; any disparities in his persuasions I ignored because I wanted to be right so badly.”

“But you had to see how he lied to you and used you. You couldn’t have believed in his promises for long,” she asserted. “Did you?”

Ben was quiet for a long time, the outline of his body a frozen image in the filtered moonlight. “I believed him until my father bled to death in front of me. But the bridge was crossed by that point, and I had bound myself to Snoke. So I served him. To defy him would mean admitting that I had been wrong. I knew I was, but I wouldn’t admit that, not for years, so I became a monster instead.”

He shifted toward her. “That’s what made me so angry at Luke that last night I was in his home. He’d found the letters Snoke wrote me, and was furious that I would compromise his safety and my family by allowing Snoke into my life. That I was a foolish child who would never believe he was wrong, and that I was on a path to destruction, a path of my own making.” He exhaled a bitter huff. “And the crank was right. I’ve hated him for years for being right about me.”

“And that’s when he tried to kill you?” Rey asked in confusion. Luke’s words were harsh, but were they the words of a man intent on killing?

Ben shifted again as he exhaled, and he ran a hand through his hair. “We were both raging at each other, really. Just shouting and taking any shot we could. I called him a coward, he called me an imbecile, and it escalated from there. And then I -- I brought Mara’s name into it.”

He paused, and in the ominous silence Rey could already feel the bottom of her stomach dropping out of her.

“I said it was convenient that she should whore herself out so as to avoid paying for her crimes,” Ben muttered, his voice strangled and disgusted.

Rey deflated, disappointment pushing down on her. “Oh, Ben,” she murmured reproachfully.

“I didn’t mean it,” he went on. “I was ready for a fight, though, and I knew what would hurt him the most. I wanted to provoke him. That’s when he pulled the knife on me. My sword was out just as quickly. He drew first, but I was just waiting for the excuse.”

If there had been any doubt that Ben wasn’t telling the truth, this was the final proof to shatter that doubt. He was willing to admit his culpability in what had passed between him and his uncle, a mark of integrity he didn’t have to exercise. It did little to banish the sick feeling in Rey’s belly, but it was something that struck her all the same. “So, how did you manage not to kill him?”

“I was fighting angry. I was a terrible fighter when I did that.” Rey couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on her lips. She knew the feeling. “Luke, for all he was incensed at me, had years of practice to perfect his control. It’s humiliating how quickly he disarmed me. But he held that knife at my throat for a long time. I wonder how close he came to using it.

“I left that night. Took off while they slept.”

He left off, clearly done with sharing his memories, and Rey now had plenty to think on. She had asked for it. And it wasn’t as though Ben hadn’t prepared her; he had made it quite clear she wouldn’t like what she heard. She was surprised, though, at how much the disappointment at his mistakes weighed on her. Maybe she had been hoping that it was all just a misunderstanding. But to know that he deliberately chose to wound his uncle, even if only with words, pricked at her heart in a lonely way. And with what he said about why he had continued in Snoke’s service at all (though she was sure he omitted the mistaken certainty that his family would reject him), she was forced to confront what he’d been trying to tell her, that his actions were not those of a hero. It was a sharp blow, considering how easily she could forget his past when so many of his actions regarding her had been blatantly good. But he knew every one of his crimes. No wonder he fought her so vehemently when she had tried to speak of his goodness. It may be there, but it was mingled with the darkness he had followed for years.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice. She couldn’t think of anything else to say, just that she was dreadfully sorry for the pain this man carried with him. She wouldn’t add to his burden by chiding him for the errors he had made; he was all too aware of them.

“Me, too,” he replied simply. “It’s not enough to make up for everything I did then -- it never will be -- but I am. But of all the mistakes I made that night, the worst one was what I said about Mara. I didn’t know her, really, but I knew what I said wasn’t true. And the more time has passed, the less I blame Luke for what he did after I said it. If anybody had said anything like that about the woman I -” he cut himself off uncomfortably. “I would have done far worse than he did,” he finished grimly.

If only he could admit to his family what he just said to her. If only he knew that they didn’t even need his apology. If only he would believe her when she told him so. She inched closer to him, praying for inspiration that she might say the right words.

“If you apologized to Luke for that night,” she began, “would you believe him if he said he forgave you?”

She heard him exhale shortly. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t if I were him.”

“What about your mother? If you gave her a chance to say that she forgives you, would you believe it?”

A shuffle of fabric let her know he was shifting around uncomfortably. “I don’t know,” he confessed quietly.

“You should give them that chance,” she said firmly. “And give them the chance to ask for your forgiveness. That’s all they want.”

“It keeps on coming back to this,” he muttered, and his silhouette turned to her. “Why does it keep coming back to this? Why won’t you leave it alone?” He didn’t sound angry or upset, but genuinely bewildered and pleading.

“Because you have a family, Ben!” Rey exclaimed in a burst of impatience and pain. “You have a family who loves you and wants you back. Don’t you know what a gift that is? I know it’s not a simple situation, but all you have to do is reach out and they will be there! Do you know what I would give for that?”

She felt her body begin to tremble, emotion overwhelming her. “I knew for only a few months what being part of a family was like, and, if anything, being with Liecia and the children made me want it more once it was gone. I couldn’t rid myself of the longing for it once I got a taste. And you can have it back, this great gift right at your fingertips, but you won’t take it! And I can’t stand that you keep on throwing it away,” she said in pained frustration.

“One day your chance for it will be gone, in one way or another, and you’ll wish you had made things right with them. Please,” she implored, grasping in the dark and grabbing hold of one of his gloved hands with both of hers. “Please, don’t throw your chance away. Don’t -” she choked on the terrible longing.

“Don’t throw it away,” she whispered, gripping his hand.

A lone tear escaped down her cheek, but before she could disengage one of her hands to attend to it, Ben’s free hand had reached up and cleared it away. How he had seen it in the dark was a mystery, but she stilled at the brush of his glove against her skin. His hand hovered in the air for a moment by her face, and she wondered if he would touch her again. That secret part of her that would not let go of romantic fantasies wanted him to, but she knew it was a futile wish. Not to mention completely at odds with everything that had been revealed in the past half hour.

His hand lowered and she released the other from her grip, sitting back in silence.

“Sometimes I wish,” he said, “that I had the bravery to do what you suggest.”

Her eyes lifted to search him out more clearly. What was there to say? What good would it do to express her faith in him yet again? She’d already said it, and they were both exhausted from it. All she had the energy for was to simply sigh.

At least until the unmistakable crunch of approaching feet came near, and her energy returned in a snap. Ben’s, too, and they leapt to their feet, both drawing their swords, Ben’s other arm instinctively stretching out to shield her.

“All right, you two,” a weary voice spoke out of the darkness as two shadowy figures moved into the trees. “This is trespassing you’re doing, and you should just move along. Find another spot for the night.”

“We’re not hurting anything,” Ben replied, his voice placating and low.

“Doesn’t matter,” the other figure spoke, and Rey stifled a gasp. She knew that voice! “These times, we can’t take chances. You should know that.”

Rey stepped quickly around Ben. “Finn?” she asked.

A muted thud was the first thing she heard. And then, “Rey?!?”

Ben let out a resigned sigh behind her.


	21. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief delay reaps unexpected consequences.

“So you’re going into the belly of the beast,” Chewie said after a low whistle.

Rey was keenly reminded of the night of the Harvest Ball, sitting in the dark around a table with Chewie, Maz, and Finn. Leia and Poe were missing, of course, but Ben’s rigid frame more than made up for the lack. After Finn and his patrol companion had brought them to the manor, Ben had barely spoken. Which left the bulk of the tale to Rey to explain.

She couldn’t tell if Chewie spoke in disapproval, but Finn made his opinion exceptionally clear. “This is madness,” he said angrily. “What are you thinking, going back there all alone?”

“I won’t be alone,” she replied levelly, her eyes flicking over to where Ben sat quietly.

Finn rounded on Ben. “What have you got to say, Captain?” he spit out sarcastically. “What good do you think this’ll do?”

Ben kept himself still, but he returned Finn’s glare easily. “I don’t recall you arguing last time.”

“Last time we were getting her  _ out _ of that place. Now you just want to drag her back in?”

“No one is dragging me, Finn,” Rey interjected. “This was my choice, and I’m doing it.”

Finn looked incensed, his head swiveling back and forth between Rey and Ben, but he settled for a frustrated huff rather than keep yelling. “And I suppose you won’t want me to come along this time, either.”

“Even if she did,” Chewie spoke up, “you have obligations here that you promised to fulfill. And that’ll serve the war better than if you disrupted Rey’s plans.”

Rey turned to him quickly. “What’s happening? I don’t have any idea of anything going on.”

“Well, we had a nice job during the winter making runs to Endor, trying to convince those lollygaggers to make up their minds. Finn helped me with that, and they finally agreed last month. I don’t suppose that information got to you, though.”

Rey shook her head.

“Troops have begun gathering, but it took a while for anybody to decide on a command base. That’s why we needed Endor.”

“It’s easiest to engage Snoke from their territory. They know that well, and didn’t want the responsibility. Or the destruction,” Ben muttered. Chewie acknowledged this with a brief nod.

“After they agreed, we sent a good number of fighters and horses down that way -- your friend Rose went with them, to serve as a field physician. And Finn and I expected to join them with the rest of us by now, but Leia sent us a message a week ago telling us to hold off. Wouldn’t say why.”

“Maybe now we know,” Maz said slyly with a pointed look at Rey and Ben.

“Maybe,” Chewie conceded, “but I’ve got a feeling there’s more to it than these two. Who knows? So we’ve been sitting here, biding our time, making our usual patrols and keeping the pass guarded.”

“Anybody attempt to come through?” Ben asked, almost betraying eagerness even as he sat still.

“No. It was a pretty typical winter, but that’s enough to block it up. Even if anybody successfully made it through the snow, our measures would have stopped them.”

“But we’ll be able to get through tomorrow?”

Chewie considered, but his expression was doubtful. “The snow’s probably gone, but we might need a day to clear out our barricades, especially with less help around.”

Ben huffed in frustration.

“If I had known you were coming, I’d have done something before you got here. Don’t you roll your eyes at me, boy,” Chewie stuck out a threatening finger, and Rey almost could have sworn she saw Ben quail under Chewie’s scolding.

“We can’t change what’s been, so you’ll just settle in for another day,” Maz said gently, but no less firmly. “And it’ll do you both good to get some decent rest before this last push of yours.”

Ben looked ready to argue, but Maz stood forcefully before he could. “And on that note, I’d say we’d all better get to bed. Bacca, you show little Han here his place; I’ll take Rey.”

Rey glanced over to see Ben stiffen even more at how Maz referred to him, if that was possible. But Maz simply took her arm in hers, seemingly unperturbed by the frisson of tension that coursed through the room at her words.

Rey slept in the same room she had all those months ago, and she revelled in the luxury of a soft mattress under her body again. Taking turns at the watch and sleeping on the ground for the past few weeks made her more tired than she realized, and she drifted into slumber incredibly easily.

She awoke with the dawn, though; there was no escaping that habit, and she took to her feet quickly to observe the cloudy day outside her window. Perhaps it was Chewie’s words the night before affecting her perception, but she could tell the land was more empty, its citizens gone off to an unknown fate. Because of her. All at once she was anxious, and she couldn’t stay still. The walls were stifling. She dressed quickly, once more in borrowed clothes as Maz had insisted their few belongings be washed if they were stuck here for a day, anyway.

Rey’s feet took her out to the stables, joined along the way by the bounding dog that bore his master’s name. He calmed her with his happy, undemanding company, and she felt a smile cross her face as she buried her hands in his fur. The stables were quiet, but as she approached, she saw a door wide open. Curious, she walked in and saw a familiar, midnight-black horse being readied for a ride.

Of course she recognized Ben as he walked around Falcon, tightening straps and making adjustments to the equipment, but he looked vastly different. He was clad only in a loose maroon tunic, dark pants, and his black boots, and it was an unexpected sight. Compared to the thick layers she was accustomed to seeing him in, he almost looked relaxed, as though it were an ordinary day and he was taking his horse out for a pleasant gallop. He murmured to Falcon as he worked, and when Falcon nickered in return, his entire face softened in a fond expression. Rey was afraid of intruding on this private moment, but Ben turned to her with curiosity in his eyes. He didn’t seem at all surprised by her appearance.

“Not leaving without me, are you?” she attempted a poor joke.

He didn’t share in her levity. “I wanted to get a look at the barricades Chewie mentioned,” he replied. “Get started on taking them down.”

She nodded. Of course he wouldn’t be deterred by anything. “You weren’t going to wait for anyone?”

“It’s best if I go up there alone. Your friend the guard could have let everyone know who I really am; I don’t want to take the risk of someone jumping me on the way up the hill.”

Rey wasn’t terribly pleased at his assumption of Finn’s behavior, but she couldn’t entirely blame him for it. “I’ll go with you,” she said, stepping further into the stable.

“No, you wait for everybody else,” Ben said gently. “They’ll be set off in a panic if you’re gone without an explanation.”

“What about you?” she argued.

“You’re my witness,” he replied with a smirk. “And if you weren’t, Chewie would have known the instant he saw Falcon’s stall empty.”

“Is it . . .” she hesitated. “Is it good to see him?” she asked, gesturing to Falcon.

His lip curled into that reluctant half-smile. “It is. He’s been with me for a long time; he would have come in handy these last few months if some scavenger hadn’t been so stubborn.”

“You didn’t have to give him away,” Rey retorted, and that corner of Ben’s mouth deepened.

“Yes, I did,” he said shortly, but not unkindly, his eyes still on Falcon. “Your need was greater.”

“What’s this?” a booming voice sounded behind Rey, making her jump. She turned to see Chewie walk in, and his namesake barked happily at the sight of him.

Ben’s face became a blank. “Just getting a start on the barricade,” he replied, his grip on the reins he held a little tighter.

Chewie nodded a few times. “I was hoping to catch you before you got going. We’ve got breakfast begun; you should eat something.”

“I’ll eat later.”

That familiar feeling of wanting to slap some sense into Ben Solo arose again, and she steadied herself with a quiet, slow breath.

“I wanted to talk to you, too, kid,” Chewie said.

“We’ll talk later,” Ben said, and without another word, he swung himself up into the saddle. Chewie placed an unyielding hand on his leg before he could nudge Falcon along, though.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said seriously, and Ben finally looked directly at him.

“Later,” Ben said again. With a dig of his heels, Falcon was off, and Rey instinctively jogged after them as Ben guided his horse out, their pace quickening along the road until they reached a gallop, far beyond the reach of her voice.

Chewie came up behind her, and for a few minutes they watched Ben in silence, his figure getting smaller and smaller. Then Chewie heaved a sigh.

“That boy,” he mused aloud. “Too much like his father; had to always be on the move, and didn’t trust anybody to take care of a job better than he could. Come on, let’s get some food in you. Can’t leave that kid alone to take apart everything with his bare hands by himself.”

The small group of workers, of which she, Chewie, and Finn were a part, gathered at the mouth of the canyon, and made fairly quick work of Chewie’s barricades, demolishing the blocks with gusto. The real trick was dismantling the traps that were spread along the path a couple of miles into the pass. Rey worked alongside Finn most of the time, her fingers growing raw with untying ropes, and sweat pouring off her brow as they shifted timber and stone of varying sizes. Every once in a while she would catch a glimpse of Ben, who worked tirelessly, barely taking a break to get a drink of water. His hair was drenched with sweat, slicked back in odd places, other strands stuck along his forehead. His arms strained as he took on the heaviest work himself. She thought he just might kill himself, until Chewie stepped in and forced him to go a little slower. This was a relief; she wasn’t sure he would have listened to her.

Chewie declared the work finished a little after midday, and when they arrived back at the manor, Maz took Rey in hand, ordering her in no uncertain terms that it was time for a bath. Rey wasn’t about to fight her on that, and gladly followed her to the bathing room for a good soak.

Maz joined her once she was clean and clothed, sitting her down at the vanity in her private chamber and taking a comb to her tangled hair. Once the snarls were cleared away, the repetitive stroke of the comb through her wet tresses was soothing, and Rey was grateful for the trouble Maz was taking. But she couldn’t entirely relax. There was one question she hadn’t asked yet.

“What are the reports coming out of Naboo?” She was fearful of what Maz might say, but more afraid that Maz would refuse to answer. “I heard a few things, vague things, in the villages we resupplied in, but nothing more than that it wasn’t good.”

Maz made an expression of resigned agreement. “They weren’t wrong. And I’m sure there’s more than we know. You’ll see for yourself in a couple days.”

“I want to be prepared for it.”

“Of course you do, child,” Maz replied, still applying her hand to Rey’s hair. “Snoke has managed to repress a good deal of the news coming out of there. It’s been difficult to be sure of anything. We know he’s increased recruitment -” Rey took in a hissing breath at that; as though he needed more bodies, “and now it’s more forced. Troops coming in and practically stealing poor souls from their beds. More taxes to go toward maintaining the army, and preparing for battle, and a lot of people suffering from starvation and no money to rectify it. Some have resisted, but their efforts are rewarded with destroyed homes. I think many have gone into hiding, but it’s hard to survive on nothing in the middle of winter. There’s no telling what has happened to them.”

Rey closed her eyes, a guilty pain filling her chest.

“But,” Maz continued, her voice picking up, “there’ve also been rumors of some dissension in the ranks. Nothing absolute, and there are only whispers of it, but it seems that some additions to Snoke’s army in the last few months have not been to his benefit. Maybe more people are willing to question his methods with the country suffering as it is, maybe you have more allies in the rank-and-file soldiers than you thought. But it’s possible that Snoke’s increased efforts are a desperate attempt to keep control that’s slipping through his fingers.

“It’s no help to your people in the short run, I’m afraid, but it might be good news for you.” Maz laid a hand on Rey’s shoulder.

“I don’t care if it’s good news for me if the people are still suffering,” Rey declared. Maz raised her brow in a reproachful manner. “I know, I know I need to be thinking in terms of permanent peace and prosperity in the future, but I can’t help being angry because of what the people are going through right now.”

“Your compassion is a great gift,” Maz observed with a smile.

“Is that what this is?” Rey asked fiercely.

“It is,” Maz affirmed. “You wouldn’t get so angry if you didn’t care so much. It is difficult to not be able to fix the problems right away, and you will surely have many times you still feel impatient, but you’re on the path. You will find your way ahead; I know it. And don’t lose hold of your gift; it’s one not many possess in such strength. It inspires you to help your people, and it allows you to see a man where many would only see the monster.”

Rey pulled up at Maz’s concluding statement, but Maz apparently was not going to elaborate. There was no doubt of who she meant, though.

“Now, if you would be a help to me, child,” Maz said vigorously, gathering the damp towels on the floor into her hands, “and take these back to the bathing room, I would be obliged. Some of your clothes might have dried in the meantime, too, and you could grab them while you’re there.” And without further ado, she thrust the pile into Rey’s arms.

The skirts of her light dress swished softly on the floors as Rey carried her load, her mind full of what Maz had said. The compliment to herself, the miserable reports of what was happening in Naboo, and the veiled reference to the man she had hardly been apart from for weeks. It was true that, if anybody outside of their small circle knew that Ben Solo and Kylo Ren were one and the same, they would likely see only the villain he insisted he was. And considering those years she had spent in Theed, knowing him only as the faceless servant of Snoke, it was a wonder that she had never hated him. Had she always been destined to see the man behind the mask?

These thoughts crowded into her brain as she distractedly pushed open the door to the bathing room. Just in time to see Ben, his back facing her, shedding himself of the maroon shirt that she had marveled at mere hours earlier. And all thought stuttered to a halt.

The muscles of his back flexed and smoothed as he tossed the shirt to the floor, and it was pure providence that she let out an uncontrolled squeak before he could follow suit with his trousers. In a flash, he turned around, and he froze in place, giving Rey plenty of time to take in the view from the front. She knew he was built like a mountain, but until this moment, surveying the firm planes of his chest and stomach, she never knew he was sculpted as though from marble. And his arms . . . oh, his arms. They looked capable of crushing an oak. And her.

He didn’t look alarmed at her presence, and only watched her steadily, as if daring her to look away. But she couldn’t. She was too caught at the sight of this man whose appearance made her mouth go dry and her palms inadvertently begin to sweat. It took every ounce of self-control simply not to lick her lips at the sight. He was solid, sinewy, and vital. Stars above, he was beautiful.

He walked toward her, his steps measured and purposeful.  _ Look up, Rey! Look up! _ she shouted at herself, still trying to tear her eyes away from his torso. It was bad enough that he caught her looking at all, but it was humiliating that she couldn’t stop gawking. Her breathing grew erratic as he came closer, and there was an unfamiliar thrumming in her body at his proximity, a dangerous intensity that threatened to crush her.

When he stopped directly in front of her, she finally looked up to see his eyes, already so dark, were nearly black, but with a gleam she could have sworn she’d seen before. Her body tingled, irritated and warm, and she didn’t know how to relieve it. He lifted a hand, and she trembled. Was he going to touch her?

But he didn’t. Instead, he tugged gently at the bundle in her arms, and as limp and useless as her hands were, the towels fell on the floor in a heap. His eyes followed them as they fell, and then he trained his gaze back on her.

“I . . .” she stammered, still unsure of how to form words, let alone sentences.

“I’ll take care of them,” he said softly.

She gulped, and then fled. If she stayed any longer, she would surely do something completely rash and entirely foolish.

Upon reaching the safety of her room, she flattened herself against the door, just in case somebody tried to barge in without knocking. She didn’t know if she was presentable, certain as she was that she was flushed as red as a tomato. There was also the question of if she would ever be able to speak coherently again. Until she calmed her body’s overwhelming reaction, it wouldn’t do to see anybody.

This pulsating energy that refused to abate was entirely new. Yes, she had secretly indulged in her romantic daydreams about Ben, and been scrupulously honest with herself about the pull she felt toward him when he laid his eyes on her. She had even vaguely wondered what it would be like to kiss him. But those passing moments when the possibility had occurred to her seemed incredibly delicate and innocent in comparison to what she felt now. This feeling, this raging instinct that took over her entire body, was far more violent and consuming. This was blatant. This was desire.

She had managed to restrain her instincts in his presence, besides the obvious mortification of being unable to look away from him. But she wanted. She had never wanted before, but now she felt the urge to give full rein to her unlocked appetite. She wanted to touch - no,  _ explore _ \- the expanse of his chest with her fingers, and run her hands up to his shoulders. She wanted to feel those magnificent arms surround her. For the first time, she didn’t merely wonder at what his lips would feel like pressed against hers, she yearned for the sensation.

_ Oh! _ This was exquisite. This was torturous. Rey threw herself onto the bed, burying her face in the covers. This was trouble.

* * *

Rey was heading toward the dining hall that evening when she was distracted by Ben’s familiar timbre floating from the opposite direction. Without thinking, she went toward the sound, and stopped in the doorway of what looked to be Chewie’s study. Chewie and Ben were standing by the fireplace, Ben leaning with both hands against the mantel, Chewie leaning in toward him. Their bodies blocked the flames, making shadowy silhouettes, and their voices were low, but it was clear they were arguing.

She thought she had learned her lesson about eavesdropping, but she couldn’t stop being inquisitive and strained her ears to hear them. Besides, she reasoned, if either of the men turned or looked up, they would immediately see her. It wasn’t as though she was hiding; she was just making sure to be completely silent.

“ . . . shouldn’t be afraid of rejection,” she finally caught from Chewie’s half-concealed profile.

“That’s not what I’m . . .” Ben growled back, but she couldn’t make out the rest. Her brow creased in thought. Had Chewie taken up her favorite argument and was now trying to convince Ben he could return to his family? She held her breath, afraid that even that quiet sound was interfering with her ability to hear what they said.

“There’s not much time left,” Chewie remonstrated, his voice growing a little louder. “You’re going to need to make a choice soon.”

Ben didn’t reply to this, and Chewie’s massive shoulders drooped a little.

“I’m not going to stop you, but what makes you think Snoke is going to step down quietly, even if everything goes as you plan?”

Ben lifted his head, turning it slightly to look at Chewie. Rey quickly pressed herself against the doorway, trusting to the darkness and their preoccupation to conceal her. “I don’t expect him to,” Ben responded darkly.

Rey blinked. He’d never expressed that doubt any of the times they discussed his plans.

“And what are you going to do about that little hiccup?”

“What I must.”

She shivered. She’d heard that tone from Ben once before, when he had threatened Wes’s life.

“And that’s going to solve everything,” Chewie censured dryly.

“I’ll be doing everyone a favor. Most want him gone, and no one will miss him.”

“Least of all you.”

Rey could easily imagine Ben’s eyes blazing in conjunction with the hair-raising virulence in his voice. “Do you really think I could forgive him for everything he’s done to me, everything he’s done to -” he cut himself off. “I bear the responsibility for what I’ve done, but he’s been the voice in my head for years. If it weren’t for him, none of this would have happened. And he can’t be allowed to continue.”

“Is that really your choice to make?” Chewie asked seriously.

“I need to be free of him, Chewie,” Ben replied, pleading breaking through his anger.

“Yes,” Chewie agreed. “But you’re walking a thin line. Should he be removed? Yes. Does he deserve death? Most likely. But what if he  _ does _ step down? Will you still do ‘what you must’ if he cooperates? Will you be free of him then, if you take your revenge in the name of justice?”

Ben turned back to the mantel, and Rey could hear the slow exhale issuing from him. Chewie walked around him, and picked up a long, thin bundle that was propped against a plush chair.

“I’m going to offer this to you again, Ben,” he said quietly. “And I want you to take it. He would want you to take it. But if you do, you need to remember what it should be used for, how he used it. To defend yourself and those you love, yes, and even to kill when there’s no other choice. But not to enact vengeance. That’s not the action of a free man, a good man.”

“And that’s why I shouldn’t take it,” Ben said shortly. “Because I’m none of those things.”

“That’s why you should,” Chewie rebutted, holding out the bundle, “to remind you of what you can become.”

There was a tense silence, a drawn-out tableau of Chewie extending his arm, offering the concealed gift, and Ben staring at it as though it were poison. Then, quick as a whip, Ben’s hand shot out and snatched it from Chewie, bringing it in close to him, hidden from Rey’s view. But the firelight shone in Chewie’s beady eyes, and she could see the beam of approval in his expression. Somehow, even though she had no idea what it was, her breast filled with relief and pride, a reflection of the satisfaction that Chewie quietly communicated when he patted Ben’s shoulder.

Chewie took a few steps toward the open entry, and Rey immediately tensed when his eyes fell on her. There was a slight hesitation in his stride as he registered her presence, but it was hardly noticeable, and he said nothing as he approached. He even looked a little glad to see her. However, he put one of his giant arms around her shoulders, and turned her firmly, marching her away with him to the dining hall.

Ben never joined them that evening.


	22. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are high as Rey returns to the site of her previous escape.

They left Chewie’s home before daybreak, and once the sun rose behind them, they were in the canyon. Now Rey finally had a good view of the narrow path she had traversed in the dark half a year before. She shivered at how treacherous the track really was, especially with the steep, deep drop into the ravine below. The rushing water of the stream was still a ways down, barely discernible underneath the reeds and tall grass, but its flow was noisier from the recent snowmelt than she remembered. Thank goodness she hadn’t had to walk this path alone in the darkness.

Ben kept silent beyond the usual exchanges necessary for making their way along the trail. But it didn’t appear to be avoidance so much as preoccupation, and Rey took her time before trying to draw him out.

He was handing her over a pile of rocks that had eroded and fallen directly in their way when she asked, “Are we going to meet any of your knights?” He hadn’t spoken much of them at all.

“Why,” he replied as he climbed up over the unsteady heap himself, “do you want to?”

_ Yes. _ “I don’t know,” she said out loud. “But they’ve got to have been doing something all this time. And if they serve you and not Snoke -”

“Some helped me with the search,” he interrupted. “And they’re still keeping watch on the house and Pryde, to see if he does anything that makes them suspicious. They’re on the lookout for us to return, but we won’t see them for at least a week.” He hopped off the last stone and they resumed their walk.

“What about the rest?” she asked.

“They joined the Naboo army,” he answered breezily, as though he was discussing the weather.

Rey, in the meanwhile, was struck still. “What?” she exclaimed. “They are fighting -”

“If you’d let me explain, you wouldn’t burst a blood vessel yelling at me,” he looked back at her with that smirk she was growing to enjoy despite her best efforts. “They joined the army, but they’re all in separate units. No one knows who they are or what they have been doing the last five years, and they’re ordinary soldiers.” His smirk deepened. “But ordinary soldiers with a gift for spreading doubt and discontent.”

Rey pulled up again. “Wait. Your knights are . . .” He stopped, as well, regarding her curiously. “Maz told me there were rumors of dissension. That’s because of your knights?” she asked, incredulous.

He inclined his head, mild surprise marking his features. “Reports are reaching Bacca? Good, that means they’ve done well.”

She was flabbergasted. “But . . .”

Ben strode back toward her. “How many of the citizens really want to be fighting for Snoke, do you think? How many just want to be able to return to their homes in peace?”

Rey considered for a moment. “Many,” she answered his second question. “Most.”

“And for years they’ve been afraid to speak it,” he said with a nod. “They just needed someone brave enough to say what they’ve all been thinking, even if it’s just in a whisper. It’s not much, and it’s a slow process; they couldn’t bring suspicion on themselves. But it’s something to undermine morale, and weaken the fragile loyalty of the army.” He leaned his head in a little, his eyes delving into hers. “Maybe even enough to turn against Snoke.”

So there was more going on than even she knew. “This is not something we discussed at all,” she said slowly, torn between amazement and indignation. “I thought you were counting on the mission we’re doing.”

“It’s called a contingency plan, Highness. Dissension in the army still has the potential for a lot of bloodshed, which is why our mission remains the priority, but it is worth trying if our plan doesn’t go perfectly.”

“ _ Now  _ you admit that it could go wrong,” she pointed out wryly.

He grimaced a little. “Yes. It could go wrong. Luke would be far too pleased to hear me say it.”

Rey bit her lip before charging ahead with what she had heard the previous night. “And you killing Snoke is another contingency plan in case things don’t go perfectly.”

Ben’s face became a blank. “Where did you hear that?”

“I was,” she faltered under his stare. “I was listening to you and Chewie last night, all right?” she confessed with more than a hint of defiance.

A flash of panic flew through Ben’s eyes, but it was quickly suppressed by vexation. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” she demanded, irritated.

“How much did you hear?”

“That’s not an answer!”

Ben clenched his jaw, a muscle at the corner jumping wildly. “It is. There were things we talked about that I don’t want you to know.”

“You told me you didn’t lie,” she accused angrily.

“I don’t,” he replied, his eyes hard. “But I do keep some things to myself, and you know that. You even said you understood it.”

Rey hesitated, but wasn’t ready to yield entirely. “Well, I don’t understand you not telling me about you killing Snoke.”

“Is that something you need to know?”

Blast him! “Yes, I think so!”

“Fine. I want to kill him. Satisfied?” he spoke rapidly and succinctly.

Again his bluntness caught her off-guard, and she took a moment to collect her thoughts. Hearing him say the words so directly, when it had only been implied the night before, made it that much more real and terrifying. While she stood there mutely, Ben began to walk away. “All right, so you kill him,” she called after him. “Why couldn’t you have just done that months ago before going through all the trouble of arranging my escape?”

He turned back to her, but didn’t approach again. “Do you want your reign to begin in blood?” he challenged. “I was under the impression that you don’t. That’s why we’re going through all this effort rather than just letting everyone go to war on your behalf.”

“I -”

He plowed ahead, never giving way to his temper, but it simmered beneath the surface just the same. “If we, or I, had assassinated Snoke to help you ascend to the throne, your hold on the country would be tenuous at best. If you can get the throne by murder, why wouldn’t someone simply dispose of you the same way? It sets a precedent to kill Snoke without a legitimate reason to give his allies. Because, like it or not, he has them. You could intimidate them and keep them under control through fear, knowing they could share in Snoke’s fate,” he broke off to take a deep breath, and when he resumed his tone was calmer, more beseeching. “But I never believed that was how you wanted to rule.”

Rey met his gaze somberly. “No. That’s how he did things. How my grandfather did things.”

“Exactly.” He didn’t speak smugly, but simply.

“So,” she ruminated, stepping toward him, “gaining my grandfather’s approval is a way to legitimize my claim?”

“Your claim is already legitimate,” Ben reminded her, and she rolled her eyes at the interruption. Of course that had always been the point.

“But it is officially needed to convince others in the Imperial Court that I should be granted my birthright, so  _ they _ won’t be able to dispute my rule. Even if they wanted to,” she reflected. Ben didn’t interrupt this time, and she gave him a sharp look. “If everything does go according to plan, all this will be accomplished without Snoke having to die.”

His mouth worked hectically. “Do you want him to live?”

The question hit her like a slap. She’d been naive, perhaps, but she hadn’t ever really considered disposing of Snoke that way. It seemed so cold-blooded, so much approaching murder that she was repulsed by the idea. Ben’s resolve, however, forced her to ponder. Was it right for a man to live who was the cause of so much destruction and suffering? Was it right that an entire nation, or nations, should writhe and deteriorate because of the overreaching power Snoke would never cease pursuing? She may not want to kill him, but she certainly didn’t want him to live, either.

Rey met Ben’s penetrating stare. “No,” she answered, trying to keep at bay the horror she felt at admitting such a thing. In one word, she gave Ben permission to take his revenge. In one word, she sentenced him to continue on that dark path he was mired in.

Once again, Ben seemed to comprehend everything she was feeling in his look. “You shouldn’t be the one to kill him,” he said softly. “Your hands should remain clean. Mine, on the other hand, are already filthy with blood. What’s one more man? Especially that man? I know what I need to do.”

Rey wanted to weep. She may feel revulsion at the idea, but she couldn’t apply that sickening emotion to Ben. Instead, she mourned that he would see himself only as an extension of what he used to be, an instrument of death. But to try and assure him that this time was different, that what he needed to do would serve a greater purpose and bring peace to the Realms simply seemed hollow. She couldn’t even bring herself to apologize for the responsibility she bore for this course. She could only wish that, when the time came, some miracle might occur where Ben would be able to make a different choice.

They resumed their walk in awkward silence. What could one say after such a confrontation?

But Rey was still curious about one thing. “What did Chewie give you?” She may as well know since she had admitted to listening in.

Ben pushed his cloak aside, and showed her the sword hanging off of his belt. At first she didn’t quite understand, but then realized the hilt was different, tarnished and well-used.

“Why did he want you to have this?” she asked in confusion. Ben already had a sword; why would he need a different one?

Ben’s answer was low and brief. “It was Han Solo’s.”

* * *

It was past nightfall and the bright moon was lighting their way when Ben’s steps slowed, and he signalled to Rey that she move closer to the canyon wall. He let his hand hover in the air for a while, and the moonlight revealed the tension in his body as he stood stark still. He stared into nothingness in that way when one is intently listening, and Rey held her breath.

“Wait here,” he whispered, and was gone before she could protest. He slipped past a twisting curve, hidden from sight, and Rey was left to her rising fears and anxiety for at least ten minutes before he appeared again.

He drew close to her, his voice the faintest whisper. “One more turning and we’ll be at the mouth of the pass.”

“Patrols?” she asked, too late to stifle the sharp inhale she’d taken.

“One at each side of the opening, and probably more in the surrounding grove.”

She closed her eyes. How would they get through?

“We’ll go slowly at first. Find what cover we can. The stream is running loud enough, so they won’t know we’re coming until we’re there,” he answered her unspoken question.

“Are they going to find out we’re there?” she wanted to scream at him, but settled for an aggravated whisper.

He had the audacity to smirk. “Leave it to me. But when I give you the word, we go for the woods.”

Her eyes bulged, and she wanted to argue more. This man, as captivating as he was, could also be incredibly frustrating. One moment he was tragically serious, making contingency plans because he knew things might go awry and marking himself as an executioner, and the next he was leading her straight into what seemed to be an incredibly stupid situation with a smile on his face.  _ Stubborn, arrogant. _ And then  _ Brave, considerate, conflicted. Extremely well-put-together. _

_ Stop that! _ she ordered herself. This was not the time to sort out everything she was feeling toward Ben Solo. This was a time to focus on the matter at hand. And the matter at hand was keeping silent as the grave as they crept along the winding path, keeping their heads low and eyes alert. She recognized the scenery of the grove as soon as they rounded the final curve, just as Ben grabbed her arm and hoisted her lower to the ground.

They crouched there together, a small bush all that really concealed them (and it did a poor job with Ben’s mountainous frame), when she spotted the guard emerging from the darkness to pace back and forth in his ordered spot where the rock wall banked outward. She couldn’t see the other guard Ben had mentioned.

Again Ben held out his hand, his palm flat toward the ground, fingers spread, silently telling her to wait. His lip curled again, and she couldn’t understand what would make him smile when the enemy was close at hand and there was no easy way through. He turned his head away from her, that hand still outstretched, and let out a low, haunting whistle. She nearly jumped out of her skin, and his hand grasped her forearm tightly, holding her steady. The guard had not reacted, but still the question pounded in her head. What had Ben done?

The urge to flee was overwhelming, and every moment the feeling mounted higher and higher. Ben would not look her way, his hawk-like gaze focused on the guard, but his hand never left her arm. She wanted to hiss at him and demand to know what was going on and why he would risk discovery by making a deliberate noise. But she kept quiet, not wanting to be the imbecile that gave them away by initiating a whispered argument.

The wait was interminable, wondering when Ben would tell her to move, and being frightened of the inevitable order. And then she heard, far off in the distance, another whistle, nearly matching Ben’s, but a little higher and lilting, like a bird. It actually could have been a bird, she told herself, but Ben’s hand left her arm and his feet began to shift. He looked her way again.

“Get out your knife. Let’s hope you won’t have to use it.”

She stared for a minute, then reached for her belt. “You better know what you’re doing,” she muttered as she drew out the knife, her hand clutching the hilt.

Ben made no reply, but she could almost feel him snicker.

A shriek rang through the darkness, and she saw the guard jerk into alertness. He looked around in confusion, and it seemed he shared a questioning look with his unseen fellow, but did not move. An answering yell came from the same direction, and Rey looked at Ben to see a tense anticipation in his eyes. Any moment now, she was sure. Any moment.

She could hear rising voices, as though there were a distant fight, a squabble between two idiots who didn’t know any better than to take their disagreement elsewhere. Rey licked her lips, wishing she knew what was going on. The voices only got louder and angrier, even if she couldn’t make out what they said. Was this what Ben had been waiting for?

Apparently it was, because more shouts rent the air, and the guard finally moved in response to them, breaking into a jog until he was out of sight.

“Now!” Ben’s whispered voice thundered, and they took off. Not quite a run, not quite a walk, but some ridiculous combination of the two. They kept their shoulders hunched, and tried to move as silently as possible, but the rocks, dry grass, and brush underfoot crashed like war drums in her ears. Ben pushed her along, their pace quickening the farther they went, and soon they had cleared the canyon. But there was still the open space before they reached the cover of the woods. Would they make it?

She still heard muffled shouts and sounds of a distant scuffle, but she didn’t dare turn her head to find out. Looking behind would be no benefit if they weren’t seen, and if they were, her concentration should be on her readiness to break into a sprint. Ben pushed her back harder, and she lengthened her stride, all the while afraid that someone would see them. If not the guard who had disappeared, but another who they could possibly be heading straight toward in the trees. Finally, they were no longer hobbling along, but fully running.

Ben’s hand shot out and took hold of hers, and she was sorely tempted to ask why when he yanked her to the side and, a few steps later, whisper-called to her, “Jump!” She had only a split second to prepare before he pulled her up and over the wide stream that continued its flow beyond the canyon. They landed on the far side, but there was a frightening moment when she felt her balance teeter and she was about to fall back into the muddy bank. Again she felt the press of Ben’s hand, which kept her upright, and then he moved forward again, now seeking the shelter of the trees.

His steps slowed considerably once they were ensconced in the woods, but he kept moving, her hand still enclosed in his. Rey was perfectly capable of walking on her own, but he moved so decisively that it was clear he had a specific destination in mind, and she wasn’t about to lose him. He jerked to a halt, and his head swiveled from side to side. Rey mimicked his motions, but couldn’t see if anybody was close. She could hear, though, and the loud squabble that had distracted the patrol had ceased. Whatever trouble that had allowed them to leave the canyon was over, and the guards would be returning to their posts.

“This way,” Ben whispered once again, leading her into a patch of thick brambles. The prickly shrubs climbed high, and more than once her cloak was caught on the sharp ends, but they didn’t go far before Ben stopped again and pulled her onto the ground, narrowly avoiding being attacked by the treacherous bushes.

Now he released her hand, and she felt the blood flow returning to her fingers. She hadn’t realized how tight his grip was until this moment, and as she flexed her hand and sheathed her knife, she belatedly comprehended that he wasn’t wearing his familiar gloves. These realizations led her to another, that they had managed to get out of the canyon without detection. It was downright miraculous. But how exactly had that miracle occurred?

“Ben,” she muttered quietly, and he didn’t acknowledge her. She poked him just above his elbow. “Ben!” she repeated, and he whipped his head around, his expression clearly annoyed. “How did that just happen?” she asked.

Without warning, he closed the distance between them, one arm wrapping around her body, and his free hand covering her mouth. Immediately she stilled under his touch, her eyes wide with confused shock. The feel of his fingers lightly pressed against her lips sent her mind reeling, and her former irritation at his high-handedness vanished at the sudden nearness of his body. He kept his gaze averted, though, his eyes darting to and fro.

“ . . . wouldn’t wish that on anyone, if you ask me,” an approaching voice was saying, and her shoulders hunched in on themselves as she realized how closely she had come to revealing themselves. Still Ben’s hold on her didn’t relax, and she was torn between embarrassment and the desire to make him meet her eyes.

Another voice answered, “You don’t have to tell me. Coming out all this way just to prove a point. She’s lucky we didn’t skewer her.”

“Gonna spend a night in lock-up, I bet, for being out after curfew.”

“And he along with her,” the other voice sounded amused.

“Just what they both want,” the first said with a laugh, a laugh that was fading as the steps went farther away.

It took some time before the guards could no longer be heard, and Ben’s distant stare eventually returned, looking down at her. Slowly he removed his hand, his fingers dragging ( _ caressing?  _ she wondered) down her mouth, and her breath began to come in short spurts. She couldn’t control the way her eyes flicked to his mouth, wishing for the courage to massage away the stern frown it bore. He held very still, and she was so caught up in her perusal of his shadowed face and cursing the pack that prevented her feeling his hand at her back, she had no idea if he looked at her the same way. But she felt very warm as they knelt there together, unmoving and silent.

Eventually, though, he backed away, she nearly stumbling on her knees as he abruptly let her go. He looked away, his eyes scanning as best they could in their darkened cover. Rey longed to speak, but stopped herself with the reminder that they were meant to stay concealed. And the longer they stayed put, the more strongly she suspected that Ben hadn’t meant anything by his actions; he had only been desperate to keep her quiet. 

They must have stayed hidden for nearly half an hour before he stirred, and he muttered, “Time to go.” He didn’t take her hand again, but nodded to her to follow closely, and they inched along, taking care once more to move stealthily. It was an arduous task, and more than once did Ben stop in his tracks and drop down to the ground, startled by any noise that didn’t fit their surroundings. The temporary reprieve from Rey’s nerves was long gone, replaced by the uneasy feeling that her heart was permanently lodged in her throat.

A few lights began to flicker through the trees, and Ben turned again decisively, back in the direction of the hills. Presently, the ground grew rockier, and once more he halted, this time in front of a large pile of boulders. Rey couldn’t imagine what made him suddenly look so smug, but he gave that irksome smirk again, and with a jerk of his head, he led her through a narrow opening between two of the boulders, barely large enough for him to scoot in sideways.

Another hiding spot that somehow Ben knew about. He really should have been a smuggler, she thought to herself. The one drawback of this place was that it was entirely enclosed by rock, and was pitch black. At least that meant she would be spared his smirk when he inevitably explained his superior plan to evade the canyon patrol. One she was highly interested in hearing and then lambasting him for not telling her.

“Will you talk to me now?” she asked quietly as she felt along the ground before sitting.

“What do you want to know?” Even in the dark, he sounded altogether amused and self-satisfied. Rey was immediately annoyed, and her desire to ask about those tense minutes he had held her so close faded in the familiar musing that he needed a good punch on the nose.

“How did that happen?” she repeated her first question. “That commotion was no coincidence.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Then what was that?” she asked in slow, measured tones.

“It was . . . some allies.”

“You said I wouldn’t meet any of your knights for a week,” she accused.

“Did you meet the people who were out there?” he pointed out sarcastically. “In any case, those weren’t my knights. They’ve been in contact with them, but they have no idea who gave them the job.”

“The job?”

“You’d have to have a decent inducement to sneak around and risk your skin just for a couple of strangers to get into Naboo.”

Rey gaped. “How long have they been waiting for us to show up?”

“Not sure,” he replied. “It depends on how long ago Alek set it up. I gave him the instructions to pass on, signals to listen for, what direction to draw the guards in, but who knows how many nights they’ve been waiting for us to actually appear?”

“They’ve come here every night?”

“Must have. At the very least, it’s been a couple of weeks that they should have been watching for us, if there was no trouble on Alek’s end.”

“And you knew someone would be here.”

“I was fairly certain.”

“What if there  _ had _ been trouble on . . . Alek’s end? What if he hadn’t been able to set up the job?”

There was a brief silence. “Then we would have had a very different experience getting through.”

Rey fumed. “Did you not consider that was a possibility, that the odds of finding a group willing to take on this risk were not good?”

“Never tell me the odds,” he quipped immediately, as though reciting by rote.

“That’s helpful.” She pursed her lips. This was too much like the discovery of his contingency plans earlier today. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d set this up?”

“Didn’t think about it,” came the reply.

“You should have,” she said sullenly, drawing her knees up to her chest.

Once again there was silence. “You’re right,” he replied, and Rey was a little mollified at the penitence she heard in his voice. “I should have. It wasn’t a slight against you; I’m used to explaining only pieces of the puzzle, never the entire picture, to one person at a time. I command the Knights this way. You don’t give your total trust to even one person; they could betray you too easily. It’s also a protection, so that they can’t tell an enemy a complete mission’s objectives should they be compromised.”

“I’m not one of your knights,” she countered.

“No. They don’t argue with me a fraction of what you do.”

She wouldn’t be swayed by his attempt at levity; he needed to understand. “You can’t keep me in the dark, not even for protection. I know what the mission objectives are, Ben. I  _ am _ the mission, for all intents and purposes. I deserve to know what I’m going into, what you’re leading me into. I’ve given you total trust ever since we left Luke’s, despite what he said. You know I have. You need to grant me the same courtesy.”

“You’re right,” he said again. Another pause followed. “I’m sorry.”

“Accepted,” Rey said shortly. The tension in her chest was alleviated somewhat, and she chewed her lip. “So, now what?”

“We wait for our contact. They’ll give us shelter in Solleuton, then we strike for the mountains again, make our way west, until we reach our destination.”

“No other secret plans?” she interrogated.

“None. We meet my knights that are stationed there, and make a plan to infiltrate.”

“You didn’t already come up with one?”

He sighed. “Circumstances could change in a heartbeat. And I wanted you to choose in what manner you’d confront him.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say about that. Facing her grandfather was the final challenge in all this, but she still didn’t like to think about the prospect. They’d already discussed Snoke’s possible fate, and she didn’t want a repetition of that conversation. What she wanted was a change of subject.

“Have you noticed,” she asked, “that we argue a lot?”

Ben snorted, and she wondered if she’d surprised him by the abrupt question. “Did you expect we would get along perfectly this whole time?”

“I didn’t know what to expect,” she admitted. “It wasn’t until these last few weeks that I really knew you.”

“And do you?” he asked in hushed tones. “Know me?”

“Sometimes I think I do,” she replied. “And sometimes you baffle me, like when you don’t share information that I should have. You can still be a mystery, you know. And then there’s . . .” she trailed off, thinking.

“What?” he probed.

“How much I’ve told you that I’ve never told anybody else. And as frustrated as I get with you -”

“Which is a great deal,” he interjected, and she could imagine his teasing smirk.

“Yes,” she chuckled, then sobered. “But I still know I can trust you with all that, that you won’t mock me or trap me. I’m,” she hunted for the word, “safe.”

She couldn’t believe she would confess such a thing, but she also didn’t know she felt this way until she said it. And in the consuming darkness, there was no danger that she would blush at Ben’s eyes on her. It was freeing, in a way, to be sheltered by the shadow. With him.

“It’s only recently that I’ve known what it’s like to have friends, to have people to care for, who I believe care for me. And it’s been wonderful, like a gift that I never knew could be opened. But then there’s still been something -- something that still stood between them and me. I could have told Finn about Leicia, but I didn’t. I told you.” She bowed her head, her following words contemplative. “In all my life, I’ve never felt like anybody would ever really know me.”

“But I do.”

Rey stilled, and searched the darkness, wishing she could see Ben’s face as he gently made that bold claim. “Yes. You do.”

It didn’t matter now how dark it was; the air was heavy and thick with the same anticipation she had felt in the brambles. Rey felt herself inching forward, compelled to find Ben somehow. She could hear his breath as she came closer. Who knew what might have happened if a sharp rap hadn’t resounded on the outside of the boulders in the very next moment? Rey was disappointed beyond belief that she wouldn’t find out. Ben shuffled past her in the dark, and squeezed himself through the crevice.

“You’re Revan?” a woman’s voice asked, and Rey rose to her feet.

“That’s right,” Ben replied, then he called back to Rey. “Come on out.”

Rey blinked a few times after she wriggled her way out, once more able to see her surroundings. The woman, whose skin looked to be nearly as dark as Finn’s, was holding out her hand.

“My payment?” she demanded, not acknowledging Rey’s appearance in the slightest.

Ben reached for the money sack, extracted a few coins, and laid them in the woman’s palm. In an instant, her fist had closed around them, and she was stepping back to scrutinize.

“Zorii and Babu will expect their cut once they’re out of lock-up.”

“They’ll get it,” Ben replied shortly. “As to the rest -”

“Yes, yes,” the woman interrupted, her eyes roving over the pair of them suspiciously. “Just taking stock of this mysterious cargo we agreed to smuggle in.”

“You’ve been paid,” Ben’s voice bordered on vicious. “Now we’d appreciate it if you filled your end of the bargain. And no questions.”

“Of course,” she replied casually, and turned away. “Follow me; we’ll shack up in Zorii’s place. Just watch your step.”

“Thank you,” Rey spoke up. The woman may only be motivated by money, but what she and her compatriots had done was still worth her sincere gratitude.

The woman stopped, and let her eyes run over Rey again. “Jannah. You can call me Jannah.”

She smiled grimly. “Welcome to the Resistance.”


	23. The Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey learns about unexpected allies, rivals, and the effects of jealousy.

Creeping into the village was much less difficult than crawling through the forest. Jannah knew exactly where to go to sneak past the guards, and quickly ushered them into a dark hut. Ben showed no curiosity, only wary caution, while Rey was full of questions. The first of which was making sure of exactly who Jannah was.

Before she could ask, though, Jannah ordered them into a corner and peered out a crack in the curtains to make sure nobody had marked their arrival. Seemingly satisfied after several tense minutes, she closed the curtains again and faced them.

“You’re going to have a nice job sneaking out again once it’s light,” she said.

“When will that be?” Ben asked sharply.

“Four, five hours.”

It was that late? No wonder exhaustion was hitting Rey so heavily as her body relaxed.

“You - lady -” Jannah spoke to her.

“Kira,” Ben answered for Rey, and in her fatigue, she forgot to not react to the false name.

Jannah lifted an eyebrow. “Kira, then. You’ll have an easier time avoiding the troops, I’d bet. You’re both in good enough shape that should the guard see you, you’ll both be targeted for recruitment, but if they were forced to choose between the pair of you,” she rounded on Ben, “they’ll go after you. They’ll salivate at the thought of snapping you up.” She snapped her fingers to emphasize her point.

“We have no plans to be snapped up,” Ben said darkly, letting his cloak drape to the side to reveal his sword.

“Clearly.”

“Your name is Jannah?” Rey interjected, and Jannah’s head swiveled toward her.

“What of it?”

“Your brother is -”

“Finn,” Jannah finished for her, her shadowy face hard to read. “The cause of all my troubles, apparently.”

Rey’s heart filled with dread. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that what happens to anyone who crosses Snoke -- or to anyone related to anyone who crosses Snoke -- happened to me,” Jannah answered dryly. “They came for me not long after he took off, and when I wouldn’t tell them anything -- not that I knew anything to tell -- they burned my home to cinders.”

Horrified, Rey was afraid to ask what happened next. Jannah obliged her by going on, anyway, her voice bitter and terse. “They tried to lock me up, punish me, what have you. They thought in their stupidity that would benefit them somehow. But Zorii and Babu got me out, and hid me here. And we’ve been in and out of here ever since.”

“In and out of prison?” Rey clarified.

“In and out to different places,” Jannah answered shortly.

“You call it the Resistance?” Ben asked.

Jannah gave a brisk nod. “Here and there we’ve got people, doing what we can for others who’ve got the same treatment as me and are looking to defeat Snoke from the inside. Like you, at least if our mutual friend was telling the truth.”

Rey looked over at Ben, who returned her gaze momentarily before turning back to Jannah. “Do you want to know what your brother is doing?” she asked tentatively.

Jannah’s eyes narrowed. “What do you think?” Her voice was decidedly unfriendly. “Best to just keep quiet. We already know too much about each other.”

“And we’ll make sure it stays that way,” Ben responded. “We’ll be out of here at first light.”

“Good. Make yourselves comfortable, then.” Jannah rose and passed into the neighboring room, leaving Ben and Rey alone to shift for themselves and hope for rest.

Rey did manage to doze in the chair she chose, but it was a long time coming. Jannah’s reception didn’t inspire a lot of confidence. She had supposed that if she ever met Finn’s sister, she would have been just as quick to befriend as Finn. But this woman with the sharp eyes and snappish answers was as prickly as the brambles in the woods had been. She couldn’t blame her, given her experiences, but she wished she’d been allowed to give her news of her brother. Although, it was questionable of how exactly Jannah felt about Finn.

Rey was broken out of her restless doze by the door opening and slamming shut, and she blearily opened her eyes to see a short, wrinkled man rushing into the next room without a glance at her or Ben. Both of them had shot to their feet, and Rey realized that the hut was not nearly as dark. “Jannah!” the man wheezed. “They’re coming!”

A loud rustle of bedclothes and a thud of feet on the floor were the responding sounds, and in a flash, Jannah emerged from the room. The pair of them pushed aside the table Ben had spent the night resting his head on, and Jannah knelt, scrabbling at the floor. Rey shared a quick, panicked look with Ben before Jannah’s fingers found a crack, dug in, and lifted a square of wood to reveal a pit underneath the floor.

Jannah looked up. “Get in!” she hissed, and Rey didn’t have to be told twice. Immediately she was down on the floor, swinging her legs through the hole and jumping in. She didn’t look to see how far down she might fall, and her knees buckled under her when the cold ground met her feet before she was ready. Ben followed silently, immediately backing up to the earth-packed wall, the floor above barely clearing his head. Jannah jumped next, landing lithely and with practiced ease.

The floor closed above them, and Rey heard scraping as the table was pushed back into place. Tiny shafts of light poked through warped slits in the boards, and a cold fear insisted that whoever was coming, would easily see those same slits as they inspected the hut. Jannah crouched into the opposite wall, folding herself into a tiny ball, but Rey stood up straight, her eyes trained on those cracks.

The door opened again, and Rey’s throat went dry as her breathing grew thin.

“You can’t blame him,” a feminine voice said. “He gets nervous in tight quarters; you know that.”

“Right, Zorii,” another voice answered. “But protocol dictates -”

“Yeah, yeah, protocol. I get it. Go ahead. Nothing you haven’t seen before.” The woman above almost sounded bored.

Steps resounded above them, and Rey willed her lungs to operate normally, but they were in no mood to obey. The air was getting thinner by the minute. And then, a small, furry something skittered over her foot. She managed not to gasp, but she was startled into movement, and she backed right up into Ben’s front.

She wasn’t in danger of falling, but he reacted as though she might, his arm wrapping around her as though to grasp her arm. He didn’t take hold, but she felt his touch as his hand grazed along her sleeve, making certain she stayed upright. His hand moved across hers, and settled at her waist. The need to breathe became even more imperative, and even less likely of taking place when his fingers curled at her side. Rey told herself he was only keeping her steady, but her heart hammered so loud she was sure it would give them away.

“All right,” the voice above barely cut into the drumming in her ears, “just keep a better eye on him. Don’t want to have to put you in the lock-up again. These are not the times to be pushing back, Zorii.”

“I hear you. Idiot cousins, what are you going to do?” The door opened and shut again, and there was silence.

Rey thought it best for her health to move forward and get themselves out, but Ben’s hand slid across her waist, quick as lightning, and, spreading his fingers wide on her stomach, he pressed her back even closer to his chest. Now there was no chance that the rapid beat of her heart and volatile rise and fall of her breast would go undetected. His head was bent, his hair tickling her ear, and she could feel his hot breath skim over her neck. It would be either his breath or his hand, its span large enough that her entire belly was covered by it, that was the culprit behind her sudden death. She didn’t know how long she could take being held so close, as lightheaded as she felt. There was one obvious solution her body was suggesting so she might have some relief, but it was hardly appropriate under the circumstances. Rey was desperate to regain equilibrium.

At long last, the table grated above them, and their temporary roof was lifted. Ben relinquished his hold on her. A woman with sandy hair and mysterious eyes squatted down, giving them all a wry smirk. “All clear.”

Jannah was up in a shot, but Rey moved a little slower, requiring a helping hand to lift herself back up to the floor. Once Ben had hefted himself up, the woman -- Zorii, Rey assumed -- looked him over appreciatively. Rey looked away; seeing another woman ogle Ben was not something she’d been prepared for.

“If I had known what we’d be risking our necks for, I’d have made Jannah stage that fight with Babu. I would have been glad to keep you company waiting for daylight,” she said, her voice silky smooth. Rey tried to control the scowl on her face, but she was afraid she did a poor job of hiding her expression, because Jannah caught her eye and snickered quietly.

Ben didn’t respond to the blatant flirtation, and took out the money sack. “Your cut,” he said, his voice strained. He held out the coins for Zorii to take, which she did with a quick hand, stepping in closer to him.

“Thanks,” was all she said, but it was practically a purr, and Rey had restrain her urge to punch that inviting expression off her face.

Ben glanced around. “We’ll be going, then.”

“Wait,” the little man appeared in the doorway, his voice still wheezy. Rey realized that this was not just due to panic, but his natural voice. “Give it a few more minutes; Francis has been hanging around longer lately.”

Zorri rolled her eyes and sat down, stretching her legs out in front of her. Her seeming nonchalance was a further aggravation to Rey’s nerves. “Oh, he’s all right. Just looking for someone to notice him. He’s no more suspicious than he usually might be. But, if he is hanging around, you two had better wait, like Babu says.” She raked her eyes over Ben’s frame again. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

Ben continued not to react to Zorii’s less-than-veiled insinuations, which was the only thing keeping Rey from throttling the woman. She was surprised, however, when Zorii’s face, eyes still determinedly fixed on Ben, shifted from interested to conspiratorial. “Likely you’d be interested in knowing what we heard in lock-up.”

Her voice had changed, too, a furtiveness that belied her casual posture. “What is it?” Rey asked, warily stepping forward. Jannah hadn’t been overly forthcoming, and she’d take whatever information she could get.

Zorii glanced at her, a strange smile passing over her features. “Oh, just that none of the army, loyal or not, are going to be happy if the rumors I heard are true about what’s coming. And Snoke,” she snickered, “he’s going to go madder than ever.”

“Mad?” Ben inquired. That word had caught Rey’s attention, too. In all the time she’d known Snoke, he’d been vicious, dismissive, and cruel. But however mangled his body was, his mind had always been intact.

Zorii shrugged a shoulder, looking bored again. “The devil’s probably been run off his feet, scarpering from one end of the country to the other, trying to inflict as much fear as he can so his troops will still fight for him. All that power he’s held for so long, and he can’t keep it much longer. All his damage is just driving more people to turn against him at last.” This wasn’t a shock to Rey, exactly, from what Maz and Ben had told her, but the additional information that Snoke was attending to possible insurrection in person was a new wrinkle.

Zorii shook her head with an indication of wonder. “If that missing princess knew what she set in motion . . .” Rey pressed her lips together in discomfort, feeling Jannah’s sharp eyes on her.

“What about the rumors?” Ben pressed, more interested in hearing what new rumor was spreading rather than let anybody ruminate on the missing princess in her very presence.

Zorii lifted her eyebrows at him, a suppressed excitement dancing in her eyes. “Oh, it’s said that an old war hero has resurfaced. And is on his way with the rest of the Realms.”

Rey took in a quick breath, her chest suddenly tense with incredulous suspicion. “Who do you mean?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “An old war hero” was a term that could apply to many people, after all.

Zorii smiled secretively, and Rey wanted to shake her. She knew exactly what she was doing by keeping them in suspense, but maybe Rey could wrestle the information out of her faster.

It was Babu that answered. “ _ The _ hero. The Emperor’s Vanquisher.” Ben snorted, and Rey had to keep her eyes from bulging. That was a title she had never heard, and she imagined that the man it referred to would despise it. But that didn’t change the shock and hope that sprang up within her, and she exchanged a look with Ben, whose expression was frustratingly enigmatic.

“You mean Skywalker,” he confirmed, turning back to Zorii.

“I mean Skywalker,” she echoed, her secretive smile turning playful. “He was sighted in Aldera a couple weeks ago, and is said to be on the move with Queen Leia. Imagine what desperation that’ll drive Snoke to now.”

It would certainly draw his eyes away from the north country they were heading to, Rey thought privately. She chewed her lip ferociously. “And you’re certain it’s him?” she asked. “I mean, what you heard. You’re sure they mean Luke Skywalker?”

“You can’t fake that kind of fear,” Zorii said seriously. “Or hope.” She sat back, resuming her casual posture. “So if you’re in the mood for more excitement, I’d suggest you head south. You might catch a glimpse of legend. Wouldn’t that be something?”

“It really could be the final blow we’ve needed,” Babu spoke up quietly. He looked around at them. “Snoke’s grip is slipping, but without major steps like this, it would be months before the army would collapse in on itself.”

“And the first step was Princess Rey escaping and thumbing her nose at Snoke in the process,” Jannah supplied, a barbed look in Rey’s direction. Rey averted her eyes, trying not to look suspicious. Jannah saw too much, in her opinion.

“Yeah, it would be nice to know if she’s coming back, though,” Zorii replied with a hint of disapproval.

“Do you want her to?” Rey asked before she could stop herself. She didn’t look his way, but she could imagine that Ben was restraining himself from clapping a hand over her mouth again.

“Maybe,” Zorii said noncommittally.

“She’s proved she’s no friend of Snoke or his plans,” Babu reasoned. “Her escape started everybody talking, and we hoped that the news we heard of her meant that change was coming.”

“But it might be a little more reassuring if we knew for certain she didn’t take off just to save her own skin,” Zorii continued. “She set off all this -- the country wanting to follow her example and escape oppression, the war and Realms coming to help us fight, everyone rallying to her banner -- and there’s no telling where she is. We can’t be sure she knows or even cares what’s happening to us in her absence.”

“Maybe she’s got her mission, same as us,” Jannah speculated aloud. “And we won’t know until it’s done.”

Zorii looked at Jannah sharply, and even Babu turned to her in surprise. “That’s a change in tune, coming from you.”

Jannah jerked her head dismissively. “Just a thought. Rumors about Skywalker returning are unbelievable, but we’d like to think they’re true. What if it’s the same for her?”

Jannah knew. Somehow, she knew. Rey kept her eyes firmly on the floor, hoping against hope that her averted gaze would be attributed to deep thought by the others.

Ben finally spoke up again. “Thanks for your help, but we need to get going. We’ve stayed too long.”

Zorii stood, and Rey looked up just in time to see her sidle up to Ben once more. “You sure? You could stay and help us out.” Rey’s nostrils flared; it was as though she wasn’t even there.

Ben peered down at Zorii levelly. “Thanks, but we’ve got our business to take care of.”

“Pity,” Zorii said, backing up. “We could have used a good man.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Rey said tightly, and immediately her neck and cheeks heated up traitorously.

Zorii didn’t bat an eye at Rey’s response, but continued to back away toward the door. “I’ll lead you out.”

“I’ll take them,” Jannah broke in quickly. “Francis could come back, and I’m not in the mood to go back into the pit today. Wasn’t a great way to wake up. I’d rather get out there.”

“If you like,” Zorii said.

After gathering their things that had been hurriedly tossed aside and hidden by Babu during his hasty entrance, and with a suggestive “Keep in touch” from Zorii, they were ready to leave. Jannah opened the door, and quickly bade them follow her around the side and back of the hut. They cut into the woods, and huddled behind a cluster of trees that were just beginning to bud.

From this vantage point, Rey had a clear view of the village. A cursory glance showed little out of place, but there was a strangely large number of people already out. A longer perusal, and she realized that most of the people walking around were in uniform, and they were making stops at every dwelling on the road, pounding loudly at the doors. Were they searching because last night made them especially wary, or was this a regular occurrence? She could also see more clearly that in the odd spaces between a few buildings were the blackened, charred remains of former homes. Had one of those places been Jannah’s? And what was the fate of the others whose homes were lost to such destruction?

“Not pretty, is it?’ Jannah murmured.

“We staying here much longer?” Ben asked impatiently, and Rey threw him a dirty look. Jannah was clearly supposed to remain in hiding herself, and was risking her safety again so they might find a way out. He might show a little sensitivity.

But Jannah didn’t seem bothered by the question, and nodded her head in another direction, and they snuck their way along quietly until she stopped them again at the border of the town, sitting at the edge of a shallow dip in the forest floor.

“Which way are you headed?” she whispered.

Ben threw her a suspicious glance, but answered. “Northwest.”

Jannah nodded. “Then I’d suggest you follow the hills a little longer before you come back toward the main road. The patrols keep a good number on the road for another few miles outside the town.” Despite her hushed tones, her manner wasn’t as brusque as the previous evening, and Rey felt safe venturing her own question.

“What about in the woods?”

Jannah shrugged. “Not sure. Zorii and Babu keep me pretty hidden when we go anywhere, so I don’t see much. I’m supposed to be in prison; they’re the faces of the operation.”

“How have they escaped being imprisoned?” Rey ignored Ben’s exasperated expression; he could wait another minute.

“Zorii’s sneaky, and too valuable to the troops -- she’s able to get things for them on the black market that they otherwise couldn’t get -- so they often look the other way when they know she’s involved in something. But that could change any minute, if a new unit commander shows up that’s a stickler for the rules, if she crosses the wrong line, whatever. She works both sides and so far hasn’t been tossed in jail for longer than about a day. Even when they search the house, they go through the motions. But if they actually saw me in there, that’d be a definite crossed line.” Jannah locked eyes with Rey. “Same goes if they saw you.”

“So we need to go,” Ben hissed at her.

Rey made to follow him, but Jannah grabbed her arm before she moved. “I am proud of my brother,” Jannah said unexpectedly. “I want him to be well. I just wish he’d given his actions more thought and how they would affect me.”

Rey nodded. “He should have. We both should -”

“You need to go before your friend there explodes,” Jannah interrupted. Rey looked to see Ben outright glaring now.

“Thank you,” she whispered once more to Jannah, moving to join Ben, who was standing a few feet away, hunched over and livid.

“Good luck,” Jannah nodded back at her.

“Good of you to join me,” Ben muttered sarcastically when Rey did walk over to him.

The next few miles reminded Rey greatly of her escape with Finn, and not only because she was so close to where she had actually been with him. Ben’s eyes were constantly on the move, their gait was slower and meandering, and to be seen now would be disastrous, whereas in Alderaan it was either a necessary evil or an inconvenience. They also wouldn’t be able to speak along the way as she had grown accustomed to, although for the entirety of that morning, she was grateful for the excuse not to talk. Ben didn’t bother to hide how irate he was, and Rey was annoyed with him for being annoyed by a delay of not much more than a minute or two. She also couldn’t shake the image of Zorii making eyes at him; she wished she could slap away the memory like a bothersome fly.

They refilled their water skins at a small creek, and as Ben took a long swig, Rey thought back on what Zorii and Babu had said.

“Do you think Luke has really joined the fight? Or is it just rumor?”

Ben swallowed. “I think it’s possible. There are more pieces in place than even I thought would be. That’s thanks to you.”

“Me?” Rey exclaimed.

“Didn’t you hear them? All the ways you’ve inspired the people, and how they hope for your return. I only placed my knights in the army; I didn’t know there was some nation-wide underground movement that involved civilians. It’s got to be extensive, reading between the lines.”

“But you set up the job to get us out of the canyon,” she pointed out. “What kind of people did you expect to meet?”

He shrugged. “I just figured Alek would contract out some criminals or mercenaries, something like that.”

“Sounds to me like they still are criminals,” Rey replied thoughtfully.

“Depends on your definition. They could just be defying laws that Snoke has set up to keep the people in check.”

“That’s true.” Rey looked at him closely. He hadn’t reacted to Zorii’s flirtatious behavior, but was it possible that, were circumstances not so tense, he would have returned her interest? “Zorii was friendly,” she observed a little too casually.

Ben shot her a look. “No more than you were to Jannah.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, bewildered. Nothing she had said to Jannah could possibly have been construed as flirtatious.

“It means you made it incredibly obvious exactly who you were,” he declared with a return of his former irritation.

Rey could feel her face flame up. She suspected Jannah had guessed her identity, but she had hoped the suspicion had escaped Ben.

“You may as well have said, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m your missing princess,’” Ben mocked with a roll of his eyes. “Any longer in that hut and you would have given it away with those big hazel eyes of yours while they were speculating about you. I thought you were more clever than that.”

“And it was clever of you to call me Kira, the name of a famous mythical queen?” Rey retorted.

“Plenty of women are named after her,” Ben argued. “And usually they don’t react like a frightened deer when they hear it.”

“That’s not what I did,” Rey muttered.

“And if you’re going to point fingers as to who gave you away, how about your mention of your guard friend? And asking her if she wanted to know what he was doing?” Ben cocked his head in disbelief. “Examine yourself before you cast stones, there, Highness.”

“I don’t think she’ll give me away,” Rey replied quietly.

“That’s not the point,” Ben sighed. “It would have been one thing for you to slip up in Alderaan; here, it’s a different story, and you know that.”

“It could have been worse,” Rey asserted. “At least they’re on my side, in case you hadn’t noticed. Or did you only notice Zorii and how friendly she was?”

“Excuse me?”

“‘You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,’” Rey imitated in a high voice. “Please.”

Ben shook his head. “Clearly I didn’t take her up on it.”

“You didn’t put her off, either.”

His brow furrowed. “Wait, is this why you’re upset at me? Because that woman was putting on some act?”

“Some act!” Rey scoffed. “That wasn’t an act.”

“Whether it was or not, I didn’t ask for it, so you have no reason to be upset at me for it.”

“And you don’t need to get so angry just because I make you wait one measly minute to leave,” Rey shot back.

“I wasn’t angry about waiting. I was angry because you wouldn’t stop confirming your identity to a woman we don’t know!” Ben remonstrated, throwing his hands in the air. “It doesn’t matter if she’s on your side, and it doesn’t matter whose sister she is. We’re not in a position to stop being careful! And she knew it, too. She stopped you before you said even more to incriminate yourself.”

“I’m sorry, all right? I made a mistake!” Rey cried out furiously, and Ben jolted, his eyes wide. Rey exhaled through her nose. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, softer. Ben did have a point, and if that was why he had been so irritated, his behavior as they separated from Jannah wasn’t so unreasonable. “Finn is my friend, and I only heard about his sister once, and I was happy to think that I could offer her some comfort, and it . . . I didn’t think.”

Ben walked closer to her, his face a little less thunderous. “You’ve got some remarkable qualities, Highness. Wanting to offer comfort to someone you don’t know is one of them. But you’ve got to use your head.”

Rey averted her eyes. “All right,” she muttered.

Ben sighed, and she looked up in time to see him running his fingers through his hair. Oh, that was just unfair. When he spoke again, all trace of anger was gone. “Look, I shouldn’t berate you for every mistake. We all make them.”

“But you’re right; this isn’t the time to stop being careful.”

“So you’ll be more careful next time,” he stated matter-of-factly. “And if you’re not, I’ll do a better job of stopping you.”

Rey nodded. “And if I need a cover, could we make it a different name? I still think ‘Kira’ is too obvious.”

Ben huffed out a breathy laugh. “Fair enough. You come up with something. And hope we don’t have to use it.”

He walked away a short distance, then turned back to her. “Do I need to apologize for that Zorii woman?” He sounded truly curious.

That cursed heat began crawling up Rey’s neck again. If only she’d kept her mouth shut about  _ that. _ “No. If you don’t think she was sincere, she wasn’t sincere.”

His face scrunched in confusion. “And if she had been? Then I would have owed you an apology?”

“You really don’t think she was genuinely attracted to you?” Rey asked, avoiding answering him. It would have been irrational to expect an apology when he didn’t do a thing, yet somehow she still wanted it.

He shrugged. The idea seemed wholly foreign to him. “Women don’t exactly find me irresistible. And if they did, it would be a mistake.”

_ Hasn’t stopped me. _ “Oh, really?” she asked skeptically.

“I spent five years hiding under a helmet and being Snoke’s enforcer,” he said gravely. “No woman should want me.”


	24. Two Truths and a Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected lie leads Rey to a life-altering truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, I finally have an official final chapter count of 30. I seriously never expected this story to be 30 chapters long, and I certainly never expected how wordy each chapter would be. This one is around 7,000 words. That is a MONSTER for me, who used to average between 2,000 and 3,000 words per chapter in previous stories. This story just wouldn't be satisfied with less, I guess. (And the rest of the chapters I've got coming are averaging between 5,000 and 6,000, so set aside plenty of time as they get edited and posted.) So you may have inferred that we're hurtling toward the finish line. You'd be right.
> 
> Thank you for comments and reviews; they make my day.

Although they didn’t dare travel on the main road, they were never far from it once they neared the mountains, keeping it in sight from a distance through the trees. This was a double-edged sword. It was a relief to continue in a fairly straight line, and Rey didn’t have to worry about walking in lingering snow that refused to melt even as the days grew undoubtedly warmer. But it also meant that the tension in her rose every time a distant sound reached them from the road.

For several days, she strained her ears for unfriendly sounds that meant they were spotted. In fact, she was so preoccupied by the possibility of such sounds that she was almost deaf to anything that was far closer. That was how one early afternoon, she nearly missed the cries that made Ben halt in his tracks and search the trees. It was his actions that brought her back to their surroundings, and once she paid attention, she could tell that these cries, while miserable, were not threatening. In fact, they seemed to come from a child.

All at once her ears honed in on the sound, trying to locate the direction it came from. She and Ben glanced at each other briefly before his eyes focused and he nodded forward. Rey quickly jogged in the direction he indicated, him close at her heels. It wasn’t long before the wailing became louder and more distinct, and she only had to adjust her trajectory once before coming upon the child sitting against a tree trunk.

He was dark-haired, and Rey caught a glimpse of caramel-colored skin before he buried his face into his knees. He couldn’t be more than four or five years old, and while his cries were muffled by his actions, they still did not cease. She dropped down to her own knees, hoping to coax him out. But he shook off her hand when she touched his arm, and she looked helplessly up at Ben.

He was swiveling his head around, possibly looking for the child’s missing party. But if anybody else had been close, surely they would have heard the boy. Ben looked back at her, his brow pinched in caution.

“This is a Gungan child,” he said grimly, and Rey’s eyebrows shot up.

“Are we that far west already?”

“Nearly, but we’re still at least a three days’ journey north of the closest Gungan village,” Ben answered with a formidable pursing of his lips. “We’re almost to our destination, and they wouldn’t have been allowed so near -” He stopped abruptly, his head jerking as if something just occurred to him, and he looked around again. There was something akin to understanding in his eyes, but he did not explain.

Instead he knelt beside Rey, now intent on the boy. Silently she wished him luck. If the boy wouldn’t speak to her, there was no possible way he would speak to the man who must resemble a giant to one so small. But when Ben spoke, his voice soft and persuasive, the words were in an unknown tongue that caught her off-guard. She looked swiftly at him in surprise, and so did the boy. Only then did she realize that Ben had spoken the boy’s language.

She shouldn’t have been surprised that he could do that, she thought to herself.

The boy replied in a questioning tone, and Ben answered shortly, holding his thumb and pointer finger close together. Then, pressing a hand against his chest, he said, “Revan,” and he looked over to Rey, the boy following his gaze. With a stutter of comprehension, she mimicked Ben’s gesture and said in as reassuring a voice as she could, “Helena.” She hoped it was an adequate pseudonym after the grief she’d given Ben about calling her ‘Kira’.

The boy’s light-brown eyes were wide, but his cries had subsided, and he said, “Zakai.”

Again Ben spoke, a few short words, and he formed a tent with his hands. The boy nodded eagerly, saying another word, and Ben nodded in response. Zakai continued to jabber in his tongue, and Rey felt more than a little awkward not knowing what was going on.

She didn’t feel safe interrupting until Zakai was done, and Ben, with an audible exhale through his nose, bowed his head and ran his hand through his hair.

“What is it?” Rey asked.

“He’s part of a splinter group, exiles from their villages,” Ben replied. “I can’t understand everything he’s saying, but I think he was separated from his brother. What they were doing away from the rest, I don’t know.”

“We have to take him back to his family,” Rey immediately insisted, and Ben sighed again in response, but there was a small, knowing smile on his lips.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he said, and Rey could see he was a little amused, even while annoyed at the inconvenience of a detour. But before she could make any further argument, he looked back at the child, his fingers beckoning quickly. Zakai stood, hope and relief clear on his dirt-smudged face. She was tempted to offer her hand to him, but the boy only had eyes for Ben. It was Ben’s hand he reached for; it was Ben who had never looked so startled in front of Rey.

He was still in the process of schooling his features as he spoke. “They’re probably further back from the main road. I doubt that he would have crossed it alone. Let’s start that way.” And with a puzzled glance down at Zakai, who was gripping his hand fiercely, he began walking.

Rey lingered for a moment or two, observing the odd pair in wondrous puzzlement herself, Ben’s tall frame towering over the tiny child. It was certainly humorous to see him take such tiny steps in order to match Zakai’s pace; he was clearly out of his element. But his discomfort was endearing, as was the fact that he had not hesitated to help the boy. Rey didn’t allow herself to linger for long, and she quickly caught up and began searching the trees and ground for any sign of Zakai’s group.

It had been over an hour when they came across a fresh track of criss-crossing footprints in the dirt, by which time Zakai had grown tired, and Ben was forced to carry him. Rey had to keep her eyes peeled on their surroundings so as not to give too much attention to how much the picture of Ben carrying a small child appealed to her. She pointed out the tracks to Ben, who grunted a little as he adjusted his hold.

“Let’s hope it’s them,” he grumbled. They followed the tracks for only a short time before the unmistakable scent of smoke filled their nostrils. Whatever encampment they were approaching, it was close.

“If it is the Gungan camp,” Ben muttered quietly, “they won’t be terribly trusting of a strange man carrying their missing child in. They’ll be more understanding if -”

His words were interrupted by a sharp cry, and Rey looked up to see they had come into view of the camp, and a woman of the same complexion as Zakai ran toward them with arms outstretched. Zakai immediately stiffened in Ben’s arms, then wriggled out with a jump down to the ground, his tiny legs pumping furiously as he ran toward the woman and threw himself into her arms. Rey smiled fondly at the sight. She turned to share a smile with Ben, but his focus was on the crowd of people that had followed the woman and were now looking curiously at them.

“They’re not going to let us walk away easily,” he muttered again, and continued to walk forward. By the time they reached Zakai, the woman had released him to be embraced by the rest of the crowd and stepped in their way.

She uttered something in her own tongue, and grasped both their hands in hers. One at a time, she lifted Rey’s hand and then Ben’s to her cheek, gratitude spilling over in relieved tears. Rey was a little uncomfortable at the display, but Ben was practically squirming to get out of her grasp. The woman gave no heed to Ben’s impatience to be released, but soon disengaged their hands, anyway, and returned her attention to Zakai.

With their hands freed, they both noticed an elderly man breaking away from the group to approach them, as well. He stopped in front of Rey, giving her a slight bow, and said, “I must thank you both for the return of our little son.”

His vowels were clipped and pinched, but his accent was no deterrent to understanding him. Although Rey wondered at his use of the word “son”. He seemed too old to be Zakai’s father, or at least too old to be the husband of the woman she presumed was Zakai’s mother. “It was the least we could do,” she replied. “We couldn’t have left him alone.”

The old man’s eyes twinkled in rueful amusement. “Well, then we are fortunate it was you who found him. Others would not be so kind.” He cast a curious glance over to Ben. “You are not friends of the tyrant, I suppose, to help a Gungan.”

Ben shook his head. “No. Not friends.”

“Then you are both welcome at our fire, such as we can make it in these times.”

Ben inclined his head politely, but shortly. “You do us honor, but I’m afraid we cannot accept.”

“Then how can we let you part as friends, if you will not accept our thanks?” He maintained a friendly exterior, but there was a definite warning in his words.

Rey glanced warily at Ben to gauge his reaction, but there was little change in his expression. He only paused quietly for a few moments before replying, “We would not wish you to doubt our friendship. We will partake in your fire. Thank you.”

Rey’s eyebrows shot up. There was barely a day’s journey left, and Ben was willing to further delay their arrival? But she didn’t think it wise to openly dispute his decision, especially as the twinkle returned to the old man’s eyes and the chill that had permeated his words disappeared rapidly. “You will not regret it. It is an honored day, to be sure. The return of our lost son will add gladness to our celebration. Come, come.”

He gestured to the camp where the crowd was returning, Zakai bouncing on the shoulders of an older boy. Ben and Rey followed him, not without sharing a look or two.

“It is the night of the first spring moon, and we will give thanks to the Mother,” the man explained as they walked. “In our villages, we would keep the fires burning all night, but it is not safe to do so here. But it is still necessary to show honor, so we lit the fire at midday, and will let it burn until sunset.”

The Gungans had a religious tradition of their own, one which Rey had read a little about in Luke’s home. Information had been limited, and what she had read seemed simple, yet mysterious. The Mother the man spoke of was the earth; the sky, they called Father. Water and Fire were their children. They dwelt together, balancing each other and giving life to the animals and plants that grew. She was intrigued at the thought of observing one of their celebrations, however curtailed it would be.

“Of course, we were not sure it would be fitting to do so, with Zakai missing, but now that you have brought him back, there is no reason to call it off.”

“You don’t fear discovery?” Ben asked, eyebrows furrowed, and Rey was surprised to see he looked almost angry.

The man turned back to face them. “Every day for nearly two years, I have feared discovery,” he said seriously. “Others who have been led to our camp have shared in that fear for however long they have been a part of it. We do not take risks lightly. It would be ingratitude to treat our safety as though it were not a gift. But we will do what we can to keep our culture alive, especially as many of us are separated from our blood.”

Some of Ben’s ire vanished as he met the man’s eyes steadily, but he looked no less stern.

“You also wish to evade detection, I imagine,” the man said shrewdly. “But here, you are friends. And friends speak their names. I am Rugor.”

Rey’s eyes flicked to Ben briefly, but she didn’t wait to follow his lead. “I’m Helena.”

Fortunately Ben’s response wasn’t far behind, but he wasn’t done shocking her for the day. “And I’m her husband, Revan.”

Rey nearly collapsed to the ground.

* * *

She took her time to recover, her shock not abating even as Ben hurriedly whispered to her his reasons for claiming himself her husband. His close proximity was distracting as he leaned in and explained that unmarried men of a certain age in Gungan culture were regarded with suspicion. This was a race of people who were strongly motivated by familial bonds, and to avoid marriage and the promise of further family marked one as an outlier.

“But you’re not a Gungan,” she whispered back to him in an unbalanced hiss. “And why should it matter when we didn’t even give our real names?”

“In the main, I was carrying Zakai, one of their children, and they saw that. I tried to warn you that I might have to claim marriage, but they interrupted me before I could. They wouldn’t trust me and my intentions if I admitted to remaining unwed.” He looked around the camp, totally missing how her eyes were still as wide as saucers. “If they even believe my claim, which they might not.”

Well, that was comforting.

It wasn’t until she began observing the people in the camp that her heart stopped fluttering so wildly. There were a few of them milling around the large fire that Rugor had spoken of, while others sat outside their tents in quiet speech. Both men and women roamed the camp, as well as some adolescents -- boys, mostly --, but there were very few children. Zakai stood out simply because none seemed as young as him.

He had apparently not given up on his adoption of Ben, immediately clambering to Ben’s side once he had extricated himself from his mother. Ben looked just as surprised at the boy’s continued attachment as he had when Zakai first took his hand, but Rey didn’t miss the secret way he smiled to himself at the attention. Somehow, he was pleased that this child was not intimidated by him and purposely sought him out.

Rugor had disappeared briefly after he’d brought them within the circle of the tents, but he appeared again as Rey hung back from where Zakai was leading Ben around. Rugor had at his side another man, younger and leaning on a makeshift cane, with messy light hair and a complexion far more like her own than the Gungans. And she realized, with a start, that they were heading for her.

“I’ll be,” the man exclaimed softly as they came near. “You can’t get away from us, can you?” he asked Rugor. “At least these new friends don’t look like they’ll be such a drain on your kindness.”

Rugor smiled lightly, then with that polite bow, he said to Rey, “We seem to be in the business of taking several strangers into our camp, Friend Helena. This is Matthias, who became our friend not many days past.”

Matthias, his green eyes alight with humor, poked Rugor in the side, a sign of familiarity Rey wasn’t sure she would have ever dared with the elderly man. “And lucky for me, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Rugor said slowly and with an air of aggrieved patience. “Very lucky.” Without another word, he turned and left Rey alone with Matthias, although Rey didn’t miss the glance he gave to Ben, whose attention was divided between her and Zakai.

“So,” Matthias adjusted his balance, hopping a little on his unbandaged leg, “you found the little wandering scamp, did you? Right glad I am of that; it was an unhappy morning after Jabaar came back without any idea of where his brother was.”

“Yes,” Rey replied, unsure of how to conduct herself around this surprisingly jovial fellow. “Do you know how they got separated?”

Matthias shook his head. “I don’t know enough of the local lingo to be a good listener here, and the ones I can speak to were all wrapped up in searching or comforting the mother.” With another hop and a wince, he said, “Can we sit? This cane is digging into my palm something fierce.”

“Oh, of course,” she said hastily, and they settled themselves on the ground.

After a little sigh of relief, Matthias turned to her, his expression a little more sober. “So besides being the champions of the day, what brings you out here?” At Rey’s hesitance to answer, he immediately laughed out loud. “Keeping quiet, that’s probably smart. But you wouldn’t have to doubt me if you wanted to share. If Gungans are willing to offer room for both of us at their fire, we don’t need to keep all that many secrets.”

“Maybe some, though,” Rey replied warily, afraid of offending him. But his smile just grew more broad. “How did you find them?”

“Oh, they found me,” he corrected, pointing to his leg. “I was in a bad way, and they took pity on a poor deserter.”

“Deserter?” Rey’s interest was suddenly piqued.

“Yep,” he said shortly. “Got tired of the whole thing, and after seeing a mate get beaten to a pulp for marching out of place, I scuppered.”

“Were you caught? Is that how you got hurt?” Rey asked, barely taking her eyes off Matthias even as Ben approached.

“No, was lucky that way. This is nothing compared to what they could have done to me if I hadn’t made it. No, it was a couple nights later. Got my foot caught in a trap, clumsy that I am, and that near finished me off.”

“How long was it before the Gungans found you?” Ben interjected, still standing above them.

“Oh, near a day,” Matthias answered easily. “And I’ll say, I half-expected them to finish the job. Gungans haven’t much reason to think well of any of  _ us _ . These, though . . . well, they took me along on their caravan without question. Can’t think why. Don’t know where they’re headed, but we stopped here yesterday.”

Rey glanced up at Ben, wondering if he had any insight into Matthias’s story and the Gungans’ surprising hospitality, but though he met her gaze, he didn’t look as though he had any ready answers to give.

“So,” Matthias stated abruptly, looking back and forth between the two of them, “you two are wed and bound, is that it?”

Ben’s attention immediately became fixed on a distant point, and Rey blushed.

“Well, that answers my question and it doesn’t,” Matthias said curiously. “Either way, if that’s what you’ve told them, you’re in for an uncomfortable night.”

“What do you mean?” Rey asked, trying not to confirm nor deny by her countenance. She wouldn’t look up at Ben, afraid that the gesture might add to any suspicion.

“Well, these people will be on the prowl for proof, and they won’t be afraid to test you just for laughs. They’re a little freer with such things, and they’ll expect you to act like you’re married, whether they believe you’re married or not.”

He grinned mischievously. “Point of fact, they’ll probably be more eager to experiment and make you squirm if they believe you’re not married, just to see how far you’re willing to play your part.” He chuckled. “I’ll be interested to see that myself.”

“Well, I sincerely hope we won’t disappoint,” Ben said dryly. He leaned over and offered his hand to Rey, who took it instinctively. “Zakai wants you to see a particularly fat worm,” he said as he pulled her to her feet.

“Aye, that’s the way,” Matthias said with an informal salute, and Rey hated that her blush returned as Ben led her away.

Matthias had not been mistaken, Rey came to realize as evening drew near. The Gungan people were very open with their affections. Never to the point of discomfort, but it was extraordinary at how freely they made physical contact with each other. Several she saw walked arm in arm, and other groups sat together, arms flung around shoulders while they ate with their free hands. The few small children were constantly being swept up, tickled, and set back down. She began to comprehend that when Rugor had spoken of Zakai as a “son”, it was not because they were related by blood. In fact, this nomadic community was formed piecemeal by members of various Gungan villages, and very few had known each other before coming together. But this didn’t stop them from forming a close, extended family among what used to be strangers. She was fascinated and touched in an aching way.

Matthias had also not been mistaken about the scrutiny she and Ben were under. She felt watchful eyes on her, anticipating what she could not tell. But she did feel uncomfortable being on display. She wished Ben had never publicly made his claim, no matter the fodder it gave to her increasingly active imagination.

Ben didn’t openly acknowledge the examination he was undergoing, but he did remain by her side as often as possible. When they stood or sat together, the distance he had once kept was nonexistent. Rey began to miss that distance, no matter how it had irritated her before, because when he was so near, her heart was in constant upheaval, made worse when he stole his arm around her waist as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She found it difficult to concentrate on the conversations some of the Gungans tried to engage her in, her mind occupied so fully by him and what she should do in order to correspond with his behavior.

She was finally given a chance to breathe when Rugor called for everyone to gather around the bonfire. This invitation was a signal for the men and women to separate, and Zakai’s mother took her in hand and, without speaking, led her to sit with the women on one side of the fire. It was not yet sunset, but the light had grown gray, and in an hour or two it would be time to let the fire dim and die.

The ceremony was not elaborate, and it was far less mystical than Rey had first imagined it might be. Rugor stood on one side of the fire while an aged woman stood opposite, and they spoke in their own tongue. A gesture here, a risen voice there, but it was mostly a sedate kind of prayer, volleying gently back and forth between the pair. Rey stole a few looks at her companions, expecting to find them all rapt with attention. But, though there were some who were intent on the proceedings, others were clearly bordering on listlessness, and she even spotted a couple of women whispering to each other. The children squirmed in laps, while those who held them struggled to keep them in place and listen at the same time.

Religious ceremonies lost some of their mystique, she supposed, when one was raised to be familiar with them.

The prayer was soon complete, and the woman who had stood across the fire from Rugor spoke a few more words to the group, and the proceedings were apparently finished, judging from the way the people began to dissemble. She rose to her feet alongside Zakai’s mother, and they shared a slightly awkward smile in place of speaking to one another. The next moment, though, Zakai came tearing through and launched himself into his mother’s legs, prompting an audible “oof!” as she placed her hands on his shoulders. She gave Rey another smile along with an indulgent shrug, and walked a few steps away to converse with her son.

But Rey was not left alone for long. Another woman, who had been one of those to attempt conversation while she had been so distracted by Ben’s playacting at marriage, came to stand beside her, and offered her another smile as well as an unexpected squeeze of her shoulders. Rey whipped her head around in surprise at the gesture, and was immediately struck by the sincerely friendly look in the woman’s eyes.

“You have made quite the impression on Gemma, it seems,” she began in that same clipped accent that Rugor had spoken with, though with a low, melodious voice. “Not surprising, though.” Her long, glossy hair swayed from side to side, and the creases at the corners of her eyes lingered as her face sobered.

“No,” Rey fumbled for a reply. “I wouldn’t want to imagine what it is like to lose a child, even for a morning.”

“And Gemma has lost enough for a lifetime,” the woman said in a confidential tone. “Not another child,” she said quickly as Rey’s eyes widened in horror, “but she has spent months not knowing if her husband is alive or dead.”

Rey’s shoulders sagged a little, and she looked at Gemma once again, who was listening with a soft smile to Zakai speak with exaggerated gesticulations of his arms. She pressed her lips together, then turned back to the woman.

“If I understand correctly, you’ve all lost something. If not people, at least your homes.”

The woman’s eyes were now grave. “You are right. None of us would be here if we had not been compelled to conceal ourselves. Though I do not desire to appear ungrateful. The alternative to concealment would be worse.”

Rey shivered, and bowed her head, but the woman looped her arm through Rey’s, drawing her gaze back up. “You needn’t be sorry for another person’s desire to do harm. Come, speak to me while we wait for Alya to bring out her instrument.” And, with a gentle pull, she guided Rey out of the crowd that was still milling about the fire. Rey looked back to where the men had been gathered, slower to disperse. Ben stood there, his head bent to speak with Rugor.

“You are Helena, is that right?” the woman inquired. “I’m Delphine.”

Rey gave her a shy smile. “I’m pleased to know you, Delphine.”

“And I you.”

“Really?” Rey asked with a good deal of confusion.

“Why should that surprise you?” Delphine responded curiously.

Rey hesitated, her reply a little stiff. “I would have thought someone like me would be an enemy to you.”

Delphine nodded once in comprehension. “I see. Well, that wouldn’t be fair, although it wasn’t far from the truth a couple of years ago. The oppression, regular searches, the soldiers sent to keep us ‘in our place’,” she mocked the phrase bitterly. “It was why I fought in the rebellions that were always being put down by Snoke’s lackeys. It is why Gemma’s husband’s whereabouts are unknown to her, because he fought the same fight in their village. She joined our camp several months ago to hide herself from those who would bleed information from her.”

Rey was tempted to look Ben’s way again, remembering the many times he had been sent to the western villages as Snoke’s Captain. Did these people guess who he had once been and what he had been ordered to do to them?

“But,” Delphine continued, “circumstances change, and war breeds strange bedfellows.”

_ The Resistance _ , Rey thought to herself.

“Although the changes came for us even before this threat of war. It has been at least two years now since the Knights began to hide us rather than execute us.”

Rey’s neck cricked painfully, so quickly had her head jerked in response to Delphine’s statement. “The . . . Knights?” she repeated weakly, and she didn’t resist the urge to look Ben’s way now. He continued in conversation, none the wiser to the explosion that had been set off in her brain.

“Of Ren,” Delphine clarified. “As I said -- strange bedfellows. There’s no telling what prompted it, but one day they were hunting us down, and the next . . . they were giving us the means to go into hiding and sparing us from the worst of Snoke’s orders.

“I had no idea that the deaths being reported were a ruse until I was spared the lash by the Captain himself. He knew precisely my role and offered me a deal.”

Rey’s breathing became heavy and quick, her breast filling with the tension of wonder and excitement. She tried to control it, hungry to know more, and she pressed Delphine’s arm with her own. “What was it?”

“Safe passage out of my village and the promise that my family would not be targeted, as long as I made myself scarce. I was loathe to leave them, and there still is a part of me that wishes I had stayed, but my daughter begged me to take the offer. I was given a clue of where to find Rugor, and here I am today. Safe, and waiting for the day I may return to my family. That day, I think, approaches more swiftly than I ever thought it would when I came here.”

“And you believe that your family is safe, too?” Rey asked, her eyes wide and searching.

Delphine considered the question for a moment, then nodded with amazement in her own eyes. “I believe they are. I can’t answer for the turn-around from the Knights and their Captain, but I will not dispute it. I believe they are true to their word, concealing the fact that all of us here live when we were slated to die. They themselves have vanished, as well, since the rumors of war began circulating in the autumn.”

Rey felt an unbidden tear track down her cheek. The wonder she felt was quickly turning into a swell of pride and elation, and all at once she wanted to embrace every single one of the people in the camp tonight. Ben, most especially.

Delphine started in surprise at Rey’s betrayal of emotion. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to make you cry. I only wanted to explain why I am slow to think of you as an enemy.”

“No, no,” Rey uttered hastily, wiping at her cheek with a muffled laugh. “I’m only glad, so glad. I had no idea that this had been going on, and I -”

Delphine laughed with her softly. “Well, it’s touching how keenly you feel it. Now I  _ know _ we couldn’t be enemies.”

Rey smiled, and searched for Ben again. She must speak to him; it was too wonderful to know what he had done. She might berate him a little for keeping silence on yet another thing she felt entitled to know, but she was too proud of him to be angry. However, it was a little harder to see him, now that darkness was creeping over them and the fire was not replenished.

“And now you look for your love,” Delphine said indulgently. “You cannot be expected to stand here with me all night.”

Rey’s smile dropped immediately, and she turned back to Delphine. “My . . .?”

Delphine lifted her brow questioningly. “Have I spoken out of turn? He is your husband, after all.” Rey didn’t miss the hint of teasing in her voice. Was she one of those who Matthias had warned her about, who would be skeptical about her relationship to Ben? But that possibility was trivial compared to the word she had used to describe him.

“I’m sure he’ll find you once Alya begins playing the lyre. A man generally can’t resist when his woman dances before him.”

Rey nearly choked.  _ Dancing? _

Still Delphine went on unchecked. “You do seem well suited, from what I can tell. And neither of you go very long without looking for the other.”

“I -” Rey stuttered. That word that had fallen from Delphine’s lips so easily had effectively silenced her.

“I can’t blame you for that, though,” Delphine whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. “With a figure like that, he looks to be a very pleasing lover. You have no cause to complain in bed, do you?”

Rey turned positively purple. She couldn’t have responded even if she and Ben  _ were _ truly married.

Delphine looked suspiciously serene. “Oh, you two are still becoming used to each other; I see. Well, enjoy what you can and keep learning. In the meantime . . .” she trailed off, and almost on cue, a trill of sound reverberated through the trees.

Delphine’s smile became full, and she grabbed both of Rey’s hands in hers. “I told you, he won’t be able to resist finding you if you’re dancing with the rest of us.”

Rey tried to protest as Delphine pulled her along, barely noticing that several of the other women were gathering again at the fire’s edge. The old woman was strumming a small harp with a deft hand, and Rey searched the growing darkness for someone, anyone, to rescue her from embarrassing herself. Especially when she was sure her face was still bright red from Delphine’s insinuations. And there was the matter of that word.

“No, I can’t,” Rey attempted to wrench her hand out of Delphine’s grip, but Delphine’s hold was strong.

“Nonsense,” Delphine responded, placing Rey at her side, and another woman boxed her in, as if by design. “A child could do it.”

“But they’re  _ your _ dances,” Rey grasped at the faintest argument she could think of, knowing Delphine would likely bat it aside just as quickly. She was a little faint herself, having gone through a gamut of emotions in just a few minutes. How could she be expected to dance? She’d hardly been given a chance to process anything Delphine had said. And where was Ben during all of this?

But Delphine showed no mercy to her. “And you’ll catch on. Just follow my lead.” She leaned in again. “He’ll find you.”

The strumming became louder, and Alya began to warble out a song. Rey cast her eyes about, searching the sea of masculine faces that watched the women stamping their feet in a steady rhythm. Some began to clap along in time, ready smiles appearing, and some soft laughter came from somewhere she couldn’t tell. And then she saw him, nudging his way to the front of the pack, his face scrunched in curiosity. But she barely had a chance to study his expression before Delphine suddenly pushed her to the side, and she was forced to concentrate, lest she ram into the other women around her.

The rhythm was slow, the steps careful as they circled the fire. Rey looked around madly, wondering what in the world she ought to be doing with her arms while she walked in time, but there didn’t seem to be a consensus, even among the Gungan women. Some kept their arms at their side, some raised them into the air, and some, like Delphine, waved them back and forth gracefully (although none pushed the women next to them, as Delphine did to her).

Then with a strong stamp of their feet, they all twirled, and Rey followed suit a beat later, flushed red with embarrassment and wishing that the earth would swallow her whole. She had come back around to where she had begun, and she couldn’t look Ben’s way. Another strong beat and a twirl, which caught Rey a little less off-guard, and the circling of the fire continued. Another few twirls, and Rey thought that perhaps she was making sense of the pattern.

And then the beat quickened, and she panicked, sending wide eyes Delphine’s way, who just laughed and nudged her along with her shoulder. The elevated tempo was fortunately the only change, and they repeated the steps over and over. Rey began to feel a little more at ease, and she chanced a look toward Ben when she came around in the circle again.

He was standing still, his arms folded across his chest. It was a stark contrast to the other men, who swayed and clapped along with wide smiles and muted cheers. But she could see, even in that brief instant, the corners of his mouth deepening, and she felt his eyes pressing in on her, watching her as though she were the only person in the world. She spun away with a laugh.

One more glance at Delphine, who gave her an encouraging smile, and Rey was filled with a swift sense of daring. All at once she felt free, and as she followed the pattern of movement and twirled with the rest, her arms began to move of their own accord, sometimes lifting high, and sometimes wrapping around her middle. There was no ascribed design, only a feeling that guided her actions. Her steps became hops, and another laugh escaped her. The music’s pace picked up again and again, and she skipped and hopped with abandon, spinning and smiling and letting go of the weeks of tense control she’d fought to maintain.

When was the last time she had danced? Not at the Harvest Ball, no. She’d been too nervous and then the evening was cut short, anyway. And even had she danced there, it wouldn’t have been anything like this, anything like this daring, wild spinning that would not be cowed by the world. And then she remembered the last time she had danced, much like this, so many months ago. In the rainy courtyard.

Ben had been watching her then, too.

Rey threw herself into her final spin with more zeal than grace, and she immediately began to topple over. She tried to recapture her balance, but it was to no avail. Fortunately, before she hit the ground, she was caught by a pair of powerful arms. She grasped a couple of times at them, steadying herself while also trying to pull herself up. Once she was sure of her purchase, though before she was fully upright again, she looked up to thank her savior. And she met a pair of familiar dark eyes, ablaze with a fierce gleam she was beginning to interpret.

Ben pulled her to her feet, those accursed eyes of his roving over her face as though to ask her if she was hurt. She shook her head ever so slightly in answer, and he exhaled softly to express his relief. Her lips parted in wonder that they could communicate without words, but it also seemed completely natural.

“You’re quite quick, Friend Revan,” a voice chimed in, and Ben abruptly became rigid under her hands. Rey shook herself a little and joined him in turning toward Rugor, who was watching them with a raised eyebrow. Another song had begun without her knowing, the men now also taking part, and they stood a little removed from the group. “Your wife, I’m sure, wishes to show you her gratitude.”

The same mortification she had felt at Delphine’s suggestiveness rose up again, and she wanted to hide her face away. Of course, the closest thing to bury her face in was Ben’s chest.

“I’m sorry?” Ben asked remotely, his voice barely heard above the music and general gaiety.

Rugor took a step toward them, and laid a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “You’ve done your wife a service, and you must wish to accept her thanks.”

Rey seized the opportunity she had, hoping to put him off. “Yes, of course. Thank you,” she said hurriedly.

“You’re welcome,” Ben responded immediately.

But this was not enough to deter Rugor, although he removed his hand. “Ah, come now, you both can do better than that. You cannot be ashamed to kiss your wife.” He was looking up at Ben keenly, and Ben stared back. Rey knew a challenge when she saw one.

Ben turned to her decisively, and she nearly stepped back at the way his eyes now bored into hers. Her lips parted again as stifling anticipation roared through her, an anticipation that grew when she saw the telltale bob in Ben’s throat. He lifted his hands to her face, cupping her jaw gently, hiding away her mouth from any onlookers with the long expanse of his fingers. The barest tug pulled her in, and he was right there. This was the moment. Her eyes closed.

His lips brushed against hers so lightly, she hardly felt them, but she still shuddered in a silent gasp at the whisper of contact. He didn’t close the gap again, but she could feel his breath tickling, tantalizing on her lips as he hovered achingly near, and it was only her absolute stupor of thought that kept her from leaning in and bringing to life his ghostly kiss. How could something so small and brief have such power to immobilize her?

When he pulled away, she followed him instinctively, chasing that kiss that was a mere promise of what could be, raising herself a little on her toes. But when it was clear he was out of reach, she rocked back, staring at him gaze at her. She saw the minute changes in his expression, the setting of his jaw as he swallowed uncertainly, the obvious way his eyes studied her like she studied him, searching for her feelings on what had just transpired.

And she became certain of two things at that moment.

The first was why exactly Ben had kept his distance before. If he allowed himself to come too near, with no mask to hide behind, she would see everything. His pain and hope, the continual longing for understanding, the passionate nature that could erupt any minute. But most of all, what she was now so sure of, was that he wanted her. The same desire he had awakened in her burned just as brightly in him. But there was more than hunger; there was genuine regard and fervent care. There was passion and recognition and affection, and it was all focused into an ardent want. Of her.

The second was that she loved him.


	25. Crossing the Threshold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey goes for the direct approach.

Rey’s epiphany didn’t entirely shock her. She knew well that her feelings for Ben were evolving and that he was gradually growing more dear to her. She simply hadn’t realized the point when her interest had transformed into love. She had reached the end before she knew she was past the middle. Even when he had infuriated her by being so obstinate (to use his term) and pig-headed (to use hers), her anger was never enough to overcome her fascination and her desire to know him. Her hopes that he would reconcile with his family were no longer because of her sense of indebtedness to Leia or Luke. No, she wanted  _ him _ to be happy, and she wanted to be the one who made him so. As he unraveled more of himself to her, the more drawn she was to him, and the more time they spent together, the more she craved. Like that brush of his lips against hers, he was tantalizing and promising, leaving her yearning for the fulfillment only he could give. She knew that if he asked for it, she would give him her heart.

But would he ask for it? There was her predicament. And all signs pointed to a negative answer. After that shadow of a kiss, he hadn’t given any indication of wanting to speak about it. In front of Rugor, they could hardly do so, anyway, not if they wanted to absolutely confirm the truth of their relationship. And circumstances were hardly conducive as they slept alongside each other in Zakai’s family’s tent, crowded as it was. Language barrier aside, Rey didn’t wish to discuss her feelings with an audience.

Ben also deftly avoided the subject after they departed the Gungan camp, insisting on a relentless pace so as to make up for the time they had lost. So, as they were constantly on the brink of breathlessness, conversation was limited to bare necessities. Rey could have fought him on this, but she didn’t want to argue at the same time she confessed her feelings. There was also the question of his feelings to consider. And he must have his reasons for refusing to talk to her about what they both must know.

For all he showed an unshakable faith in her, he was incredibly disparaging of his own prospects. The guilt over his past made him highly certain that he didn’t deserve any good future. He had even said directly that no woman should want him. And now Rey understood that his comments were not only because of his skepticism over Zorii’s interest, but a warning to  _ her _ that it was best for him to push her away. He had seen her growing attachment and kept her at arm’s length, not because he  _ wanted _ to reject her, but because he felt like he  _ should _ .

_ Oh, Luke, did you know then when you told me about Mara? Did you know that I would love someone who hated himself? _ Never had she wished for Luke’s advice so much.

Of course, her questions and conclusions about Ben’s behavior were only a part of why she didn’t press the issue as they left the direction of the main road and began the gradual ascent to their final destination. Her heart was not only beating for Ben Solo; it was clenched in rising anxiety with each step they took toward her grandfather. This increasing fear jockeyed for position in her mind, and quite often won out. She felt cold and hot all at once, her body in constant shivers and sweats.

What kind of state was the long-lost emperor in? Would he believe she was who she said she was? Did he even know of her existence? And most of all, would he give her what she wanted? A thousand possibilities raced through her mind, none of them with positive outcomes. Words she had practiced vanished even as she tried to grasp for them, slipping like sand through her fingers. Just when she needed her wits about her, they were escaping. And she occasionally cursed the man beside her who had distracted her from concentrating solely on the perilous task that she was finally about to face.

Her mind went again to Luke, wondering if he had been just as nervous, even terrified, when he deliberately walked into danger so long ago. He had done so in hopes that familial ties would save him, and now so did she. Had he battled doubt and fear in those critical moments just before the end? Had he been tempted to alter course at the last minute? She should have asked him that before she left his home. But perhaps knowing his feelings still wouldn’t have changed the final counsel he had given her.

_ Don’t back down. Confront your fears. _

Well, she was fearful, all right. The prevailing silence between Ben and her saw to that. It couldn’t be much longer before they were  _ there _ , and there would be no turning back.

The ascent of the ground below them was very slight, but as the day progressed it was clear they had made a significant climb. The mountains were extremely close at Rey’s back, and the terrain was more rocky, but there were still trees that could conceal them if need be. Ben said that the house was situated near a cliff’s edge, with a steep drop a few hundred feet into the northern-most valley of the Lake Country. Rey hoped they would not have recourse to venture too near the edge. She didn’t have much experience with heights, but she didn’t think now was the time to find out if they bothered her. One terrifying experience at a time, thank you.

She was about to ask Ben how much longer it would be when two cloaked figures appeared as if by magic, materializing from the environs without a sound. Ben stopped abruptly, throwing his arm up in front of her in a protective gesture, and she tensed immediately, her hand going for her sword. His arm hovered for a few seconds, and then dropped as he straightened in recognition.

“Victoria. Alek,” he said tersely, and the two threw back their hoods. Rey’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly at the realization that these were not foes, but the Knights of Ren that Ben had promised her she would meet. She forced down a swallow to relieve her dry throat, and removed her hand from her hilt.

The pair bowed their heads briefly, then closed the distance to grip Ben’s hand one at a time. They also nodded to Rey, eyes wary, and she returned the gesture awkwardly. She recognized the man, Alek, who stood just above her in height with dark blue eyes and long hair tied back. Victoria was a surprise; Rey hadn’t known that any of the Knights of Ren were women. But this one stood as tall as her companion, skimming a gloved hand over cropped hair while she inspected them. Both knights were dressed much as Ben was, and Rey wondered if every single one of his fellows had discarded their former armor.

“Report?” Ben asked with his own glance at Rey.

“Best to show you, sir, if you’ll follow,” Alek said softly, his eyes darting to and fro.

Ben nodded at that, and laid a hand on Rey’s shoulder to encourage her to precede him. It was the closest bit of contact he had made with her the entire day.

They followed the knights, hunching and creeping along, and eventually dropped into a crawl up a steeper hill, stopping just before its peak. Alek inclined his head with a jerk, and Rey dared a peek over the top. 

The ridge they were hidden behind dropped a little ways onto a flat clearing, at the edge of which was the cliff Ben had told her about. A well-traveled track stretched from a point unseen from the south to the large white-stone structure around which were stationed at least twenty, perhaps thirty, guards. Rey’s eyes bulged; the house itself, which stood at some distance from the bottom of their hill, resembled a castle more than anything, a formidable and breathtaking sight. If the guards hadn’t given it an ominous appearance, and if she didn’t know who was housed therein, she might be tempted to say it was a beautiful dwelling, with a steep-gabled roof, arched windows, and charmingly-placed turrets.

Ben looked over the edge, as well, his eyes scanning back and forth, then drew his head back and settled into his crouch. “More guards.”

“How many were there before?” Rey whispered.

“Maybe five,” Victoria answered. “Whenever Pryde makes an extended visit, there are always a couple more, but never this many.”

Ben stroked his chin, his brow creased in thought. “How long since the increase?”

“A couple of weeks,” Alek answered.

Ben sighed through his nose, then met Rey’s eye. “How many could you handle?”

Rey felt tempted to laugh in his face, but there was nothing funny about the situation. She needed to get in that castle, and there were about thirty foes blocking her way. She didn’t answer him, just raised her eyebrow, and he nodded in resignation.

“Is Pryde there right now, then?”

“Yes, but only for the past week,” Victoria said. “The increased numbers were several days before he showed up.”

“And that’s discounting how many might actually be inside,” Alek added. “Our best estimate for that is ten at any given time.”

“Could there be more that you haven’t seen?”

Rey was surprised that Alek threw a skeptical look Ben’s way; she hadn’t thought any of his knights would treat his questions with anything other than ultimate respect. “You think anything would get past Victoria? She catches things during my watch even when I think she’s asleep.”

“Well, not all of us are dim-witted criminals, are we?” Victoria replied snidely, and Alek smiled in response. Rey was absolutely confounded; two years in Naboo and she had no idea the Knights of Ren spoke in anything beyond an obedient monotone.

“That’s enough of that,” Ben interjected wearily, shaking his head. “Let’s just worry about how to actually get inside.”

“All of us?” Victoria asked, snapping back to attention and peeking over the ridge again.

“No. Just her Highness. And me.” Again he met Rey’s eyes in a longer stare. She pressed her lips together, stemming off a torrent of anxiety. “Has Pryde left the house since he arrived?”

They both shook their heads, and Rey looked over again at the castle that Ben dared to call a mere house. Along the road were stationed a few random guards, all milling about and looking, if she could judge from this distance, almost bored. The guards at the gate stood a little taller, a little more strict to attention. How could she get past them? And whoever this Pryde person was?

“All right, who is Pryde?” she asked, hunching back down.

Victoria gave her a short, sharp look, then turned to Ben. “You haven’t told her about him?”

“She never asked. And he isn’t enough of a threat that I thought it was information worth volunteering.”

“Well, I’m asking now,” Rey insisted.

Ben smiled a little, not a smirk exactly, but something more secretive and less cocky. Before Rey could decipher it, he said, “Enric Pryde. He’s a remnant of the old Empire. Never rose up very high in the ranks; he was young in those days, and . . .” Now he smirked as he paused.

“He was an idiot, by all accounts,” Victoria finished for him. “He had no gift for strategy or politics, so he was useless in leadership, and he wasn’t much of a fighter, either.”

“So,” Rey wondered aloud, “why is he so important now?”

“If there was one thing that set Pryde apart,” Ben replied, “it was his fanatical devotion to the Empire. He wouldn’t accept an order unless he was absolutely certain it came from the emperor himself. He refused to listen to anyone else, and that kind of loyalty, insane as it can be, is still a value even if the person has no discernible talent beyond blind adoration.

“When the Empire fell, though, he became a liability to the leadership that was left behind. He spoke of nothing but immediately going on the warpath to take back what the Empire lost, and to take revenge for Palpatine’s death. He loved the Palpatine name almost as much as the emperor himself. For someone like Snoke, who knew he needed to bide his time, Pryde was dangerous to keep around. So he sent him off, gave him a cushy governor position to keep him relatively quiet -”

“And made him the emperor’s keeper,” Rey interrupted grimly.

Ben nodded. “Who knows how Snoke convinced him to do that without revealing that the emperor was still alive? From what I could scrounge up, they constantly butted heads.”

“But the emperor was his idol,” Alek whispered. “To be of service in any way to him, Pryde would take.”

“The man himself isn’t a threat to you, or any of us,” Ben bent his head toward Rey, “but his presence here, outside of his territory, was the final proof I needed to be certain that the emperor was here. Pryde wouldn’t do any favors for Snoke unless the emperor were directly involved.”

“And now if we’re done with the history lesson, maybe now we can concentrate on the matter at hand,” Victoria spoke up impatiently, which prompted Ben to narrow his eyes at her threateningly. But she didn’t cower at the look, only pointedly raised her eyebrows in response. Rey’s lips quirked a little; she just might like this woman.

“What have you found?” he asked, again peering over the ridge. One at a time, they all followed suit.

“The kitchens are belowground,” Alek muttered, “with only a few vents. Too small to crawl in, and no easy access.”

“We’ve seen a few civilian servants taking care of the necessaries,” Victoria said with a disgusted grimace, “but their entrance is around the back where there’s no cover, and the door is heavily guarded. No way we could catch them off-guard.”

“The far side?” Rey asked.

All three shook their heads. “It’s sheer to the cliff,” Alek explained. “If you had climbing gear you might be able to scale the cliff from the bottom and get up, but that’ll take a long time, and you’ll be pretty spent once you’re inside. And we don’t know the layout inside, so you’ll need what strength you can get.”

Rey chewed the inside of her lip, her mind working frenetically.

“If I thought we could fight our way in, but thirty guards is too much for four of us.”

“What I wouldn’t give for a superstitious imbecile we could play tricks on.”

“Disguises are limited, and their numbers are still small enough that we wouldn’t be able to take out one without anybody else noticing that something’s off.”

_. . . find another way in . . . _ Rey’s brow furrowed as the others murmured suggestions to each other. She closed her eyes in concentration, tuning them out so she could listen to the recollections drifting into her head.

“The window?”

“A blind arcade.”

Rey worried her lip a little more. What was it Luke had said? She sat up straighter. No, that was absolute stupidity. But perhaps . . .

“What if we just knocked on the door?” she said in a low voice.

Ben stopped mid-speech and gave her a look of incredulity. “What?”

Rey murmured absently to herself. “Sometimes the solution is simple, or so obvious that . . .” she trailed off for a moment, then brought her gaze back up to look at them all. “What if we don’t need to sneak or fight our way in? What if we just walk up and knock on the front gate?”

Ben looked at her agape. “You see those guards, right? You think they’d just let you through?”

Rey met his eyes in challenge. “I’m a girl visiting her grandfather. What could be more natural?”

Ben opened his mouth to argue, but Rey wouldn’t let him. “There are obstacles to every solution, and all of them mean that our presence would eventually be made known to those soldiers. How would I really speak to him if I’m stealing in like a thief in the night or waiting for attack? We don’t know what state he’s in; I doubt a rushed and whispered conversation would be very convincing. And if this Pryde fellow is so loyal to the Palpatine name, wouldn’t that include me? You said yourself that I would be protected as his granddaughter; why not take advantage of that protection?”

Ben leaned in toward her, his eyes fierce. “Maybe that would work if you were inside the house, but how does that help you get past those guards?”

“If I walk up openly, why would they think they need to oppose me? I’m not creeping in trying to evade detection, and I’m not attacking them. They might just let me pass.”

“It would certainly catch them off-guard,” Victoria ventured quietly, and Ben’s glare turned on her, and this time she did tilt backward in response. “I’m just saying, if they’re guarding against intruders, they wouldn’t expect an intruder to simply walk up and announce themselves.”

“We’re able to poke holes in every scenario, sir,” Alek pointed out. “We’ll have to pick one eventually. Why not this one? It might work.”

Ben looked absolutely furious, and Rey laid a hand on his arm. “You said I could choose in what manner I confront him.”

“I didn’t mean you could choose foolishness and certain death!” he hissed back.

“Ben,” Rey said firmly. “This whole thing is foolishness and possibly certain death. In the end, this is my choice. Are you going to stay with me?”

The anger in his face dissipated a little at her question, a surprised hurt filling in the corners. His mouth worked a little before he gave his short reply. “Yes.”

“All right,” Rey said with a slow nod. “So we’re decided. I’m going to walk down there like I belong there.”

“Like you’ve been invited,” Victoria supplied.

“Exactly.”

Ben said nothing, clearly holding himself back from voicing another argument, his jaw set and eyes never straying from hers.

“If you want to look like you’ve been invited,” Alek said, “you may need to smarten up a bit.”

Rey turned to him, perplexed. “Because I’ve been carrying a gown in my pack all this time.”

“No,” Victoria said, her lip curling in a smirk. “But we can get you into one, so you can actually look like the granddaughter of an emperor.”

* * *

The hunting cabin was small and snug, but richly furnished. A cobwebbed, dusty lean-to looked to be where the messy business was taken care of, but the main structure, in which there were two rooms, had been built for comfort. The furnishings in the bedchamber were plush and luxurious, though they were faded and fraying at the edges. And the copper tub that stood in front of the fireplace looked so big that Rey could swim in it, if she so chose.

But there was no time for bathing. Victoria pushed Rey toward the wardrobe in the corner while also closing the door in Ben and Alek’s faces, pleading feminine privilege to tend to the princess.

“Go sit at the table if you want to sulk about it, or better yet, keep watch,” she ordered as the door clicked into place.

Rey looked around at her. “Have you been staying here?”

Victoria nodded and gave her another push. “Beats camping out there, even if it got cold as blazes when we couldn’t build a fire. The place had been abandoned for years when we started using it, but even those idiots would be suspicious of smoke.”

“Did you . . .” Rey glanced around uneasily. “Did you share a bed with Alek?”

Victoria snorted. “In his wildest fantasies, maybe. But no. Had to take turns.”

Rey nodded in understanding. Of course. They had watches to keep, as well. And Rey had no business speculating about their sleeping arrangements, anyway.

Victoria darted around her lithely, throwing open the wardrobe and studying the contents with an annoyed look. “Not my style, really, but I’m not the princess here,” she mused, touching the fabric of the closest gown, one of several in the wardrobe. Rey’s lips parted in surprise.

“This was a hunting cabin?” she asked skeptically.

Another snort from Victoria as she lifted out a few gowns at once and tossed them toward the bed. “That was probably the story. More likely it was a cozy hideaway for some past lord and master to bring his conquests and mistresses.” With another quick step, she was at Rey’s back and tugging on the twine that held her braid in place. Immediately Rey’s hair loosened.

Victoria was apparently unafraid to keep pushing her, because with another shove she set Rey to standing in front of a full-length mirror. Rey felt like she was back in that dancing circle with Delphine, hardly given a chance to protest her treatment. In another instant, Victoria was attacking her hair with a comb, unheeding of the pained expressions Rey made at each vicious swipe through her tangles. Rey could see Victoria’s reflection in the mirror just as well as her own, her nose scrunched in concentration or irritation. Rey wasn’t sure which.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, and that brought Victoria’s hand to an abrupt halt.

“What for?” she asked, the side of her nose wrinkling in confusion.

“For all of what you’ve been doing . . . for me,” Rey replied tentatively. “You’ve been keeping watch on mysterious castles and infiltrating armies and enduring hardships you didn’t have to. Just for me.”

Victoria shrugged a shoulder. “And for the Captain.” She returned to Rey’s hair, though her strokes with the comb were a little slower now. “We follow him.”

“Why?” For all intents and purposes, the knights were Ben’s nearest friends, if “friend” was the correct term to use. What made them join him after he abandoned Alderaan, and what made them follow him when he abandoned Snoke?

Victoria pursed her lips, her expression becoming harder and a little guarded. “He rescued us. All of us. From one place or another. We owe him our loyalty because he earned it.”

“And so you followed him even when he decided to disobey and work against the man you’ve all served for years? Even if it hadn’t been in your best interests to do so, you followed him?”

Victoria put down the comb and met Rey’s eyes in their reflected images. “You think we never disagreed with his decisions?”

Rey hesitated to answer. It was clear now that Ben hadn’t demanded unquestioning loyalty from his compatriots. Perhaps they followed him with less opposition than she gave him, but they were also unafraid to voice their opinions in front of him.

“We knew the risks when he changed course. We knew the risks when he found us in the first place. Some weren’t too happy to be Snoke’s lapdogs even then, but we trusted in our Captain. Some had nowhere else to turn, anyway. This fellowship is the closest thing some of us have had to a family. And you follow family. You follow your Captain, wrong or right.”

“Do you think he’s wrong or right now?” Rey asked softly, nervous about the answer.

Victoria’s eyes narrowed, but she looked more amused than upset. “I hope he’s right. That’s all I’ll say.”

Rey couldn’t resist one final question. “Do you know why he switched allegiances? Why he decided to stop following Snoke?”

Victoria’s shoulders shook a little as she stifled a laugh. “Don’t  _ you?” _ she asked. “That was obvious to us from the beginning.”

She picked up the comb again, smoothing out the last of Rey’s hair. It was so much longer than Rey remembered it being, and she reached up to finger it gently.

“Well, we can’t do much about the smell of you,” Victoria said with another wrinkle of her nose. “But the hair’s in working order again, and once you’re dressed you’ll at least look more the part.”

“I should leave my weapons behind, I suppose,” Rey muttered quietly, and Victoria gave her a wildly incredulous look.

“Are you crazy? You  _ take _ the weapons!”

“But I won’t look like -”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, what’s in your head?” Victoria exclaimed. “You’ve practiced with them, presumably you know what you’re doing, and you don’t want to walk in there and just stick your head on a platter for them to cut off!”

Rey couldn’t help smiling at Victoria’s ferocity, and she ducked her head so that Victoria wouldn’t see it too clearly.

“Now, you put on that purplish get-up over there, you stick your knife in your boot, and you strap on that sword. And we get this done with, once and for all. All right, your Highness?”

Rey nodded meekly, still fighting that smile. Victoria was pushy and dictatorial, but her abrasiveness was more humorous than offensive. Rey was glad to have such a woman in her corner, even if only tangentially.

Victoria left Rey on her own to dress, which Rey hoped to do quickly in order to appease her. But there was a problem once she slipped the burgundy gown over her head -- it continued its descent down her body and puddled onto the floor. When she pulled it up and pushed her arms through the tapering sleeves that barely hung onto the curve of her shoulders, she realized why it had done such a thing. It was entirely open at the back, and only by clutching it to her front was she able to keep it from falling off of her again. She backed up to the mirror and saw a trailing ribbon fluttering from the opening at the small of her back, and sighed. Of course dressing wouldn’t be that easy. Someone needed to lace her into the confounding thing.

Rey stomped over to the door, and flung it open, all the while keeping a firm hold on the front of the dress. But the only person still in the cabin was Ben, who rose to his feet at her sudden appearance.

She didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked up and down her body before looking her in the eye. All at once she was shy and nervous, her bare back making her feel totally naked in his presence. She looked around for a moment, wondering if she’d missed seeing Victoria, but no. It was just him.

“Are you ready?” Ben asked slowly, uncertainly.

“I -” Rey stuttered, and her face flushed. “No, I’m not. I . . . need some . . . help.”

“With what?” His head cocked in curiosity.

Rey turned to the side a little, showing where the back of the dress hung off of her, and Ben visibly stumbled backward into the chair he’d been using. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, barely able to meet his eye. “But Victoria said I should wear this one, and I didn’t know before she left the room. It laces up the back.”

“And you can’t . . .” he managed to say, also averting his eyes.

“No. Should I call Victoria to -”

“No!” he blurted out, and she felt her flush grow more heated. He checked himself, and repeated in a milder tone, “No. I can help you. I’ll . . .” His voice petered off, too awkward to finish whatever it was he was going to say.

“All right,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper and ducking her head as she backed into the bedchamber. When Ben did appear in the doorway, she was back in front of the mirror, trying to calm her heartbeat and keep her chest from rising and falling so rapidly.

Ben walked over, and in the mirror she saw him take his place behind her, cloak gone and hands devoid of gloves. His pale face looked a little flushed, as well, though she wasn’t sure it was a fair time to point it out, especially not when she was suffering from the same ailment. That bob of his throat as he looked down at her back was unexpectedly provocative, and when his fingers grazed her skin as he took up the laces, she was nearly undone. Suddenly she was seized by a mad desire to let go of the gown before he had a chance to cinch it up and see what would happen if he was confronted by her nearly naked form.

If only she were really so daring.

She needed to talk, and quickly, or the feel of his hands pressing into her back would make  _ her _ puddle onto the floor. “I’m sorry,” she uttered abruptly, and his eyes shot up to meet hers in the mirror. She gestured to the gown with her free arm, reminding herself to keep a firm hold with the other. “This does seem . . . strange, doesn’t it?”

“It was your idea,” he muttered with a shake of his head as he returned to his task.

“The dress wasn’t,” she argued feebly.

“You think Victoria was wrong to suggest it?”

Rey considered this for a moment. “No, not exactly wrong. But there is a part of me that feels like it’s ridiculous to go through this effort, as if it’s going to help.” The gown was tightening securely, Ben’s large hands making quick work of the laces. “I don’t know,” she admitted futilely. “I haven’t . . . I haven’t worn anything like this since -”

“The Harvest Ball,” he interrupted quietly, his eyes still on her back. “You wore blue.”

Rey inhaled quickly, but softly. “You saw me?” she murmured, letting her eyes rove over the raven hair that blocked his face from view.

“You know how long I’d been in Aldera,” he replied shortly, his hands near her shoulder blades now. “And you were hard to miss, standing out on that verandah with Dameron, talking with him, letting him kiss your hand.”

There was a hint of that old venom in his voice, and now did Rey understand what inspired it, even if Ben wouldn’t admit it. “Oh.”

“You looked like a queen then.” He tied off the top, and Rey finally let her hand fall, able to now see the line of the gown as it followed the curves of her body. But Ben’s hands lingered, skimming her upper back in a delicate journey to her shoulders, where they rested.

“Do I now?” Rey asked, insecurity battling instinct. “Will this suit?”

Ben looked up as though startled, but his gaze at her reflection swiftly changed into a reassuring decisiveness. “You look . . . determined. Strong.” His mouth moved as he swallowed, struggling into the next word. “Beautiful.”

She wanted to smile at the compliment, but the inner battle still waged on, the remembrance of what was out beyond the cabin still pressing upon her. “Is that how Palpatine’s granddaughter should look? Am I what he will expect to see?”

“It doesn’t matter what he expects; it matters who you are,” Ben replied firmly. “That won’t change, no matter what you’re wearing. This is just outer trappings.” His hands slid just past her shoulders.

Rey ducked her head again, studying her own hands. “And really, he shouldn’t be expecting me, anyway.”

“No. But once he sees you -”

Rey’s insecurity took a temporary victory. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” she murmured rapidly, twisting her hands together and shaking her head. “Now it comes down to it, now that I’m here and about to face him, I don’t feel ready. I’ve been too distracted, too caught up in other things.”  _ Like if you’re jealous of Poe, or the feel of your hands on my arms right this minute. _

Those hands squeezed in a gentle grip, and Ben swiveled her around, catching her around the waist with one arm once she faced him. This action alone surprised her, but she was completely taken aback when he reached up with his free hand to tilt her chin upward. His expression was set and unyielding, but his eyes were soft. “You are,” he said simply, his voice so low it rumbled through her. “You are ready. You’ve been ready for this since that day you decided to no longer let Snoke humiliate you.”

Rey’s brow furrowed in confusion. What did he mean?

“You made a choice that day; I remember,” he continued, his fingers stroking along her face as once again his hand traveled, this time stopping to curl around the back of her neck, his palm cupping her jaw. “Snoke cut you down in front of the governors, and you ran. But when you appeared the next day, you were changed. You were as you are now -- determined and strong -- and to be honest, it made me . . .” He looked down briefly to cut himself off, but his eyes were up again in an instant, holding her captive once more. “You made your choice then to embrace your role as a queen. And you would be a better one than anybody could have predicted. That’s why you are ready.”

Rey couldn’t believe he remembered that day so long ago, long before she had ever thought he paid her any mind. And he didn’t just see her; he knew her decision without her saying a word. It was all too overwhelming, his eyes and hands and soul, all bearing witness to her strength. A strength she was scared might fail her.

But Ben wasn’t done. “And I will be with you. I won’t leave you to face him alone.”

Rey made her decision. There was simply no turning back now. No more hiding. No more words. She surged forward and, raising her hands to balance herself against Ben’s chest, pressed her lips firmly to his.

They stood there like that for who knew how long, lips pressed together, bodies frozen in place. Ben’s grip on her face had slackened, though Rey could still feel the warmth of his hand at her neck. There was no movement, nothing to give her any hint of disapproval or desire on his part, and she was unexpectedly afraid that she had gone about the business of kissing all wrong. But how was she to know any better? She’d never done it before.

She pulled away, holding her breath, waiting for a denial, a verdict, a sentencing. Anything. But Ben still didn’t move, only looked. And in his eyes she saw astonishment, even bewilderment. There was the familiar war within himself, the agony of denial and the unadulterated longing, the continual push and pull that she fervently hoped would topple in her direction. But she couldn’t force him; she’d declared herself, and it was for him to meet her.

And meet her he did. With an audible stutter of breath, he pulled her back in, dipping his head and crashing his lips into hers in a greedy, explosive, and consuming kiss.


	26. The Point of No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey pushes forward to meet her fate on two fronts.
> 
> As for Ben, the floodgates open wide.

Ben’s arms enfolded her tightly as he continued the onslaught on her mouth, a barrage of passion she returned eagerly. Their lips moved together in a feverish rhythm, and she let out an involuntary sigh that spurred him on. With a muted groan of his own, he opened his mouth into hers, deepening the kiss and pulling her up to her toes to draw her in. In all her imaginings, embracing Ben, kissing him, being wrapped in his crushing arms, had never felt like this. It was more than she could have dreamed, but at the same time it was not enough. His hands splayed across her back, and her hands carded through his hair, reveling in the thick luxury, all the while her body shouted at her to pull him closer. If that was at all possible.

Ben’s lips tore away from hers, and she was about to protest and pull him back until he bent his head further and began trailing his mouth down her neck and across the bare expanse to her shoulder. No longer was he inhibited by his former restraint, and he was not content with only a taste of her lips. No, everything he had denied himself was unleashed all at once in rapturous touch and furious zeal. She shivered and heaved for breath, shocked and pleased by the pulsating sensations that overtook her with each brush of his lips on her skin.

And when he murmured her name into the curve of her neck like a reverent prayer, her remaining control shattered like glimmering glass, and she didn’t stop herself from steering his face back to hers. She clutched him to her, claiming him in kiss after lingering kiss, barely allowing either of them to breathe properly. But every moment his lips were free, they uttered her name again in that soft, yearning voice she hoped she never learned to resist.

He had never said her name before now.

“Rey . . .” he said again between kisses, his hands gripping a little stronger around her waist. “Rey, we should . . .” another kiss stopped his mouth. “Rey, we need to stop.” He said it reluctantly, his voice gentle and raspy, but there was still an air of finality to his plea.

Rey planted one last soft caress on his lips, then allowed herself to teeter back onto her feet. She could barely speak, her body quivering from the explosion and her panting breaths ragged and uneven. “We . . .” she started to say, but couldn’t finish. Instead she tugged him down to her level, pressing their foreheads together as they recovered.

When she felt it safe again to speak, she said wryly, “This is terrible timing, isn’t it?”

He let out a breathy chuckle. “Yes. Terrible timing.” He pulled back, straightening to his full height. Rey began to smile up at him, but her smile was immediately halted by the return of that familiar, dismal expression on his face. After what had just happened, she thought he would allow them a few minutes before reverting immediately to his self-loathing, but he was apparently incapable of doing so. “And we,” he started to say, then took a few more steadying breaths, his eyes growing somber. “You shouldn’t want . . . you shouldn’t -”

“What?” she snapped forcefully. “Love you?” He stood still, a sorrowful doubt clouding his features, and Rey pressed on. She had gone too far for concealment, and so had he. She wouldn’t go on without making herself absolutely clear. “But I do. You know it. You know I love you, Ben.”

His chest rose and fell, and his hands fell from her side. “Yes,” he admitted, taking a few steps away and out of her reach. “I know it. I’ve tried to keep you from -”

“Ben, how could I help it?” she pleaded, unwilling to let him retreat.

“You could try remembering what kind of man I really am; that should help,” he growled.

“I know what kind of man you really are,” she argued fiercely. She wouldn’t let him sidestep any longer; she would know her fate, one way or the other. “You know me, and I know you. And you may not think I should love you, but that doesn’t change the fact that I do. And I don’t believe for one minute that you don’t care for me. Ben . . . do you love me?”

He pulled up a little at the blunt question, then pinched his fingers around the bridge of his nose. “This really is not the time for this conversation,” he muttered.

“Then when is the time?” She took hold of his hand and dragged it down so he couldn’t hide, grasping it tightly in her own. “I’m about to go into . . . I don’t know what, maybe it  _ is _ the jaws of hell, and I’m scared. Is it so wrong to want something to hold on to? I couldn’t go in there having said nothing, knowing that in an hour, my chance would be gone.”

“Don’t say that,” he commanded with panicked anger, thrusting his pointer finger into her face. “Don’t say it like you won’t come out of this.”

Under other circumstances, Rey might have pushed his free hand out of her way with a flare of her own temper. Instead, she just gripped his other hand all the harder. “But there is that possibility, and we can’t pretend that it isn’t.” He bowed his head and exhaled loudly. “Please, Ben,” she implored. “Do you love me?”

The silence was excruciating before Ben spoke.

“I have loved you from almost the first moment I saw you,” he confessed as he met her eyes, and she had to catch her breath at the way her heart filled her chest.  _ That long? _ She brought a hand up to his face, stroking his cheek and letting her fingers sift through the strands of his hair. She was touched and relieved when Ben didn’t bat her away, but rather leaned into her hand, his eyes closing briefly. He turned his face toward her hold, pressing a light kiss into her palm, and her breast filled once more with a tense longing that was softened by his confession.

He let out a sigh, and his eyes were sad when he spoke again. “But I don’t . . . I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

Rey sighed in response. “When will you stop believing you’re a monster?”

“When will you stop believing I’m a hero?”

She set her jaw in determination. “Maybe when you tell me you’re not responsible for concealing Gungans when you were ordered to kill them.” That sparked a reaction from him, and he straightened abruptly. “Can you tell me that? And can you convince me that helping me to escape was some villainous act?”

“Don’t ascribe virtues to me I do not possess,” he warned with a beseeching gaze. “You think that there’s some noble reason for all this, but there isn’t. I did all that because of you. It’s all been self-serving, because I wanted you.”

“Ben -”

Now he gripped her hand in return. “Will you still think I’m good when I tell you if it had been any other woman that Snoke was after, I would have left her to her fate? I wouldn’t have questioned it, and I would have continued in his service, no matter how I hated him. If it had been any other woman, I wouldn’t have cared. But it wasn’t another woman; it was you. And the thought of Snoke,” his face screwed up in disgust, “making you his, it sickened me. He would have taken you and twisted you as he did me. And you would have eventually cowered before him, no longer the fierce, compassionate woman who would not turn away from a challenge. I couldn’t bear it. So because of my selfish feelings, I had to get you out.” He wrenched himself out of her grasp, and turned away.

Rey squared her shoulders. There may be some truth to what he said, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe she was his sole motivation. “I reject your claim, Ben. If you had really been so selfish and self-serving, what was to stop you from simply taking me yourself all those months ago? You could have dragged me away, no matter if I came willingly or not, and you would have made me give up everything, just to be with you.”

“Don’t think I didn’t consider it,” he muttered back to her. “But you would have justly hated me.”

Rey crossed over to him and, placing her hands on his shoulders, turned him around so he could see her resolve. “And if you really had no conscience, you wouldn’t have cared if I hated you. If you were truly a man without principle or feeling, how I felt about you wouldn’t have mattered. But you didn’t consign me to such a life. You planned with Finn, and it was him I left with. A friend who I trusted. You put me in the path of people you knew could help me. You made it possible for me to take what was mine, no matter the consequences for you. And you won’t leave me now, not because it’s what you want, but because it’s what I need.”

She stretched herself up to kiss him again, lightly but feelingly. Ben kissed her back, tentatively but with the air of one who simply couldn’t resist, and she came back down on her heels with a slight, soft smile. “And if you’re selfish, so am I. Because I’d rather stay here with you, weaving dreams of what could be, instead of facing the ugly reality of what’s out there.”

His brow creased dubiously. “What dreams?” he scoffed in a whisper.

“The kind of future we could have together.”

“There is no -”

“No!” she remonstrated a little louder, placing a hand on his chest. “Let me . . . let me be happy for a moment. Please. And then I’ll strap on that sword and we’ll go and I’ll walk up to that door and hope that they don’t skewer us in the first ten seconds. But let me be happy that right now, we love each other.”

Ben watched her steadily, the desire to protest still there, but he nodded, almost imperceptibly, silently assenting to her request.

Rey idly picked at his shirt as she let her fancy roam free. “We could run away and find a place somewhere. Somewhere hidden and peaceful.”

“I could show you the southern oceans,” he volunteered, and Rey looked up with a deepening smile, glad that he was willing to play along with the fantasy.

“And I could show you miles and miles of endless sand,” she quipped lightly, drawing a huff of a chuckle from him. “But it wouldn’t matter where we were. There would be a home, a place for both of us. There would be books and arguing and laughing. And I’d finally see you smile. Really smile.”

The mild humor in his eyes was suddenly replaced by a nervous apprehension, and he stroked his hands up her arms. “There would be a child.” His statement was as much a question as it was a prediction.

“A child?” Rey blurted out in surprise, but it was quickly dimmed by the timid hope she read in his expression. In all their time together he had never expressed a desire for family as she had, but looking at him now, it made perfect sense. He hated a lonely existence as much as she did, and if they were together, this was a dream that could be easily fulfilled. “Yes,” she confirmed, and his timidity vanished in the blink of an eye. His hands drifted away from her arms and around her back again. “There would be children,” she clarified, her chest rising more swiftly as he drew her closer.

“Children?” His lip curled, pleased that she would dare to raise the stakes.

“A family.” Something they both longed for. She tried to continue along this line, but it was hard to keep her thoughts straight as Ben’s head bowed over her shoulder, his hands stroking her back, and his breath on her neck employing its usual talent of dizzying her, all while she struggled for breath between phrases. “And I would teach them to scavenge for treasure . . . and you would tell them stories of the stars . . . and we would love them. And . . .” She could hardly speak any more, her efforts to remain focused being seduced into oblivion.

Ben took her mouth with his, this kiss slow, deep, and utterly toe-curling. When he released her to breathe, his voice was positively sinful. “You know what would need to come before children?” he asked in a voice deeper than she’d ever heard from him.

She shivered. “Marriage?” she gasped out, desperate to know her voice wasn’t completely gone.

He chuckled a little, and pulled back to peer down at her, letting a hand drift to her cheek. “That. And something else.” His thumb grazed over her lips in a tempting manner.

He knew precisely what he was doing to her, and her legs were so shaky, she thought she might crumple to the floor. But that gleaming hint of triumph in his dark eyes dared her to reciprocate; she would not back down. With more bravado than she expected, she replied, “There would definitely be that,” and gave him a challenging look in hopes that he wouldn’t see through the facade of bluster.

“You’d want me to ravish you, is that it?” he asked with a smirk.

“Is that the word you’d use?” Hopefully her nervous swallow didn’t give her away.

“It’s the word that’s come to mind ever since I saw you in that blue dress at the Harvest Ball, and wanted to pummel Dameron into the ground, carry you off, and have my way with you,” he said bluntly.

“I would have let you,” was her immediate reply, and she was startled that it came so easily.

Ben lowered his head and groaned. “Don’t say that, Rey. Not when there’s a bed only ten feet away.”

A smile, apprehensive and flattered, played across her lips. “Are you . . . tempted?” She tried to sound playful, but was sure she only sounded shy.

His eyes blazed into hers. “Desperately,” he rasped out. Her lips parted a little, and he gave her a wry hint of a smile. “I’ve loved you for over two years, Rey; you think I haven’t wondered what it would be like to bed you?”

_ Breathe, Rey. Just breathe. _ He wasn’t suggesting . . . She wasn’t ready yet, not really, and this was hardly the time. Heaven knew how long they’d already made Alek and Victoria wait. “But not now,” she said in a small voice.

“No,” he agreed. “Not now. Definitely not now. And likely not ever.” His head tilted a little as he replaced his hand along her jawline. “You know that this happy future you imagine can never be. I would give you that life. If you truly asked for it, to run away and make that home, I would. But you would never run away. And there is no place for me in the life you’ve chosen.”

And they were back again, although Rey felt her protestations were a little weaker with this new take on the old argument. “That’s not true.”

“You are a queen,” he said seriously. “You will be. And when that is the case, your life is no longer your own. You must consider the repercussions of every decision, including the question of who sits at your side as your consort. And that man, whoever he may be, should not be me. Not Kylo Ren.”

“You aren’t Kylo Ren,” she argued with a stronger assurance in this belief.

“It’s not that simple,” Ben replied somberly with a shake of his head. “I have been an enemy to your people; I can’t be allowed to sit in a position of authority and privilege beside you. My sins can’t be rewarded with your love. I don’t deserve it.”

“And what of what I deserve?” Rey pleaded. “Don’t I deserve to have the man I love be with me?”

“You do, but it’s not right to force you into a lifetime of having to justify your choice. You mentioned the Gungans before, but Rey,” he stuttered to a halt, his mouth working and jaw clenching. “I didn’t always save them,” he finished in an agonized murmur.

“I know,” she said sadly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. She knew he had a point; what he said about her future as queen made sense. And whatever path of redemption Ben was on, keeping him at her side was not a simple situation. But that was a fight for another day, and she could not leave things between them now completely hopeless.

“But you have changed,” Rey insisted gently, rushing ahead before Ben could protest. “You may think it’s only because of me, but I think it’s because of you. For years you’ve resisted Snoke more than anybody realized, including yourself, and you can’t disregard that. The real you, the real Ben, has always been there,” she took his face into her hands, “and that’s the man I see. The man I love.”

“I don’t know who that man is,” he muttered in despair.

“You’ll find out,” Rey assured him. “When it comes down to it, you will know who you are.”

He looked as if he wanted to believe her. That alone was progress. “Whether or not that happens . . . it doesn’t change things for us.”

As she told herself, a fight for another day. She allowed him to back away, but in her mind she would not allow this to be the end.

_ We’ll see. _

* * *

It was fortunate that she and Ben hadn’t ensconced themselves much longer in that cabin, because dusk was threatening when they finally emerged, and Alek and Victoria led them to the road that lay beneath their lookout. (Not without many a significant glance, and Rey belatedly realized, to her mortification, that Victoria knew exactly what kind of help Rey would need with that particular dress.) The pilfered gown fluttered just above her ankles, and she was relieved that she wouldn’t be tripping over it like a buffoon. She gripped the hilt of her sword like a lifeline as Ben spoke quietly with his knights, who would remain behind. His cloak was also left behind, as was the crossbow and quiver. If things went at all according to plan, he would be able to return for them.

_ Please, let him return for them, _ Rey prayed.

Ben took his place alongside her, and nodded shortly, a gesture she barely returned. These were her final steps. And her terror was mounting.

“You won’t leave me?” she whispered for one last assurance.

“Not until you ask me to.”

The first step was the hardest. Once done, her feet went on in a cadence that pounded within her. Ben hovered nearby, half a step behind and to the side. Soon they were rounding the bend of the hill and the castle loomed up before them, high and magnificent in the last rays of the setting sun. She almost stopped to admire the view, but the sight of the guards stationed along the road and standing to attention kept her going.

She lifted her chin, feigning nonchalance and authority, and never turned to look directly at the soldiers, only seeing out of the corner of her eye their bewilderment at her appearance. Likely they had no idea of who she really was, and the first few they passed were so astonished they made no attempt to stop her. It was as she had suspected; they were woefully unprepared for the possibility that anyone would simply walk up to the gate. And thankfully, the remaining light was bright enough so that it couldn’t be said she was trying to sneak in.

Her focus on the gate at the end of the road never wavered, but with each passing step she became more afraid that one of the guards would eventually step in her way, ask her name, and block her path. Then there was the fear that they wouldn’t. A guard some way ahead broke away from his post and ran up to the gate door, and although she couldn’t hear what he said, the pounding of his fist on the door echoed loudly in the open air. She faltered a bit then, waiting for the inevitable hindrance that must surely come, but Ben discreetly nudged her along before she could stop.

The door creaked open, a hidden figure conversing with the guard who pointed back toward her, and she forced an air of hauteur into her manner. This part she was about to play was as much a weapon as the sword that jostled at her side. She was drawing closer, every moment enclosing herself more securely in the enemy’s clutches, and feigning arrogance was her fragile armor.

There was some kerfuffle at the gate, and as she came nearer, she could hear more clearly the mutterings of confusion, and the thudding of feet running in the courtyard between the gate and the house itself. Suddenly, before she was ready, she was through the silent gauntlet and standing at the gate. It took every ounce of control not to slump in relief that the long walk was done. The ordeal was by no means over.

A tall, skinny man with thinning hair and slightly sunken eyes stepped into the doorway. He might have looked a pleasant man if he smiled, though as he stared down at Rey she wasn’t sure he was capable of such a friendly expression.

“What do you want?” he asked distastefully. “These grounds are private land, and you have no business here. Be off with you, before I set the guard on you.”

A part of her was screaming for her to turn tail and run, take Ben with her, and disappear. But the reasonable part of her -- the part that knew Ben stood with her, the part that was strong and capable and ready to face the horrible unknown -- stood her ground. Besides, even if she did walk away, he probably still would set the guard on her.

She pulled herself up to her full height, cocked her head at a disdainful angle, and asked her own question. “Enric Pryde, I presume?” she asked with a snobbish sniff.

The man’s face was the opposite of inscrutable as he reared up in shock that she knew his name. Already she began to see why he might not have been a useful ally in Snoke’s court. “Who are you?” he demanded. “How do you -?”

“I am Rey Palpatine, princess of Naboo, and granddaughter of his Imperial Majesty, Sheev Palpatine,” she said forcefully, successfully repressing the shudder at admitting her full name. Pryde’s eyes bulged out, and he backed up another step. “I understand my grandfather to be within, and I demand to see him. You must be sure I have come a long way.”

Pryde’s shock was absolute, and tinged with fear. He shared a glance with the guard who stood at his side, whose expression was just as bewildered and panicked. The short, sharp shake of the guard’s head didn’t escape her, and Rey narrowed her eyes. She needed to play the part of the insolent, insistent princess, and here was a prime opportunity to press her advantage while they were off-balance.

“You would not be so foolish as to deny me, the rightful heir to your master, not when it is abundantly clear I have suffered considerable abuse at the hands of the usurper. It is my right, my privilege, and my due to see his Majesty, as well as my duty to inform him of the gross insults I have endured in his absence, for assuredly he has the authority to correct such wrongs. He would not stand for further indignities against my rank and character, and nor will I. Do you imagine that you have the authority to turn me away, or have you also turned against your sovereign lord? Have you bowed down to Snoke and kept the emperor shackled in this gilded cage?”

Pryde spluttered indignantly. “Certainly not! I would never treat my lord thus! He is most comfortable here.”

Rey wanted to smirk, but kept her expression as neutral as possible. There was the confirmation  _ she _ sought, to know for certain that the emperor was indeed alive and inside this house, and her cutting speech had not been in vain or complete lunacy. And Victoria was right; Pryde  _ was _ an idiot. Barely two minutes and he gave away the secret. “Then you have no reason to refuse me admittance. If my grandfather is given the proper respect and care he deserves, you should not fear my disapproval, nor should you keep his flesh and blood away from him.”

Pryde’s mouth hung open like a gutted fish, and he looked back and forth between her and the guard at his side, at a loss to know how to proceed.

“You may be assured that your loyalty will not go unrewarded,” Rey went on, hoping she wasn’t carrying the act too far, but anxious to override his concerns and previous orders.“I have heard of your devotion to his Majesty, and such fealty is not easily forgotten.”

Fortunately, that did the trick, and Pryde straightened with decision. “I would not keep you from your grandfather for any reason, your Highness,” he bowed deferentially, and Rey caught a glimpse of the guard rolling his eyes behind Pryde’s back. “It is only that he is unwell. I’m afraid he has been in poor health ever since the fall of his mighty kingdom. It is a miracle that he survived such treachery at all, but such tenacity is only evidence of his greatness.”

Rey found it hard not to follow the guard’s example and roll her eyes, sure as she was that the reasons for their mild derision were likely the same. Pryde was blindly trusting that she was exactly who she said (never mind that it was true, but he had not been the least bit skeptical), was opening his arm for her to enter, and was probably compromising every command from Theed. However, their overall feelings regarding Pryde’s actions must differ. Pryde’s behavior worked to her advantage, giving her some secret relief, but the nameless guard must be both furious and powerless to stop Pryde from endangering their position. She stepped into the courtyard confidently, trusting to her haughty behavior to keep Pryde on the hop.

Still, she kept her eyes open.

“Uh . . .” Pryde spoke up warily behind her, and she turned to see Ben enter through the gate. “I’m afraid I cannot allow -”

“Pryde,” she interrupted imperiously. “You would deprive me of my personal guard, the one who has done more for my protection than you, who should have made my safety a priority?”

Again Pryde seemed at a loss for words, and walked ahead of her without further argument, muttering to himself as they crossed the short distance to the main house.

“Well done, your worship,” Ben murmured to her back, and she allowed herself a tiny smile. They had breached the boundaries, and immediate danger, though still lurking in the wary glances of the guards, didn’t seem so imminent. Perhaps she just might make it to the emperor in one piece. That thought certainly did its job of keeping her alert and anxious, even if there was a tiny victory at clearing the first hurdle.

She also needed to keep in mind the possibility that Pryde’s sycophantic and numbskull behavior was as much a feint as hers was.

The interior of the castle was ornate, almost ostentatious, and Rey was almost immediately confronted by a wide staircase that split in two directions halfway up to the second level, which was lined with open corridors. The wall protruding closely behind the staircase housed what she assumed was a large chamber. There was a similar protrusion on the second floor, jutting out so that the length of the entrance chamber was squat in comparison with its width and height. It seemed both open and crowded, and though the ceiling was high above her, she felt trapped. Was it the decor and layout of the place, or was it the tension she already felt? She couldn’t decide.

She realized a few steps up the stairs that Pryde was babbling on, and she forced herself to pay stricter attention.

“. . . of course, I could not have condoned such a thing under typical circumstances,” he was saying, turning to the right, “but his Majesty was simply not in a fit state. And he needed the care of someone who sincerely wished for his good.” So he was trying to butter her up and justify his position; good, she had him scared. “He has regained much of his former brilliance of mind, thanks to my efforts on his behalf, but his physical strength is all but gone. And he was simply too proud to take up his public mantle with his infirmities.

“If you will allow me to say, your Highness,” he stopped and leaned in close to her on the stair, “if that great man does have a fault, it is pride. But it is only natural, when he has done so much to be proud of. Indeed, he earned his rest in addition to requiring it, after the horrifying actions of that snake, Vader. It was only just that the traitor perished so soon after his attempt on his Majesty’s life.”

Rey tried to look bored, but she couldn’t help being concerned for Ben, who would not take kindly to his grandfather being spoken of thus. She was also not eager to hear the emperor’s praises being sung for very long. She spoke quickly and scathingly. “I have no interest in hearing that man’s name. My concerns of the past have only to do with how they directly affect me.

“For example,” she said, taking a step above Pryde in a hint to keep walking, “why, exactly, a man so loyal to the Palpatine name would make no effort to lend support to me in my hour of need?” Pryde stumbled onto the landing of the second level, his face turning bright red.

Rey climbed up beside him, and patted him on the shoulder with a patronizing air, although she was sure to keep her expression severe when he looked at her, an apology and explanation formulating on his lips. “Something to consider,” she suggested sweetly. “Now if you would be so kind as to show me the way. It is time I met my grandfather at last.”

She could almost see the cogs turning in Pryde’s head as he led her to the main doors of the large chamber in a daze. Perhaps she’d pushed too hard by reviling him. She wanted to shut him up and convince him of her right to be there; she didn’t want to humiliate and alarm him so that he called for the guard. They were probably consulting among themselves precisely how to handle her, anyway.

“If you’ll allow me one moment,” Pryde said a little breathlessly, hardly daring to meet her eyes now. “I’ll announce you and make certain he is prepared to see you.” He turned the handle swiftly, making his escape and disappearing behind the door, which was left ajar.

Rey closed her eyes. On the other side of that door was her grandfather. She must cast off the ridiculous persona she had played at with Pryde. And once she did, once she was before the emperor and was truly herself, what would the emperor see? Would he see the leader she knew she could be? Or worse, would he see a scavenger playing pretend? Or worst of all, would he see a creature who was nothing more than a prize to be handed over to Snoke? Her fists clenched to relieve the tightness in her chest.

And then Ben’s hand was there, coaxing her fingers to relax and entwining his own with them. Her eyes shot open to see his steady gaze, the one that spoke of his infinite faith in her, the one that would not allow her to back down, the one that gave her the strength to determine her own fate. Unwilling to wait any longer, she pushed open the doors to the unknown chamber herself.

There he was. On a high-backed chair at the opposite end of the room. Raising a hand to push Pryde out of the way. Staring at her with red-rimmed eyes.

The Dread Emperor himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I get a story idea, it's usually because I've envisioned a particular scene or exchange and THEN I fill in the gaps to explain what brought that particular scene to pass. And at long last, we reached it - this conversation between Ben and Rey. Of course it didn't stay exactly the same as what I first imagined, but the overall themes remained, and some lines never got altered. It's kind of surreal to finally post the thing the got me ruminating on this idea in the first place.
> 
> Also, please don't hate me because Ben is stubborn about his past. :)
> 
> And here comes the confrontation! Which way do you think it will go? I'm nervous and excited to get to it and hope that I stick the landing.


	27. Who You Are in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey makes her stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go. I'll be over there, lurking in a corner.

The chamber that Rey stepped into was large and sparsely furnished, and only a few candles lit the room where she entered. At the other end, where the black-clad figure with the red eyes was waving Pryde away, more torches burned, illuminating the gloom. Her determination, brought to life by the touch of Ben’s hand just before, faltered in the face of this spectre that stared at her. Suddenly she wished that the journey from the gate to this spot hadn’t been so easy.

The phantom spoke, his voice deep, gravelly, and worn. “Come in. Come in, my child.” Rey shuddered, but it was far too late to turn back. She took a step, and then another, leaving the shadow and coming into the light before him. Somehow the darkness had seemed safer. But she would not cower or give any indication of discomfort. She had come, and she would fulfill her purpose.

The withered man who sat so still regarded her closely. She clenched her jaw. “You are not a patient one, it seems,” he observed, his eyes narrowed in study.

“I’ve waited long enough,” she replied coolly, and was instantly relieved that her voice didn’t quake. “I wouldn’t wait any longer.”

A strange smile spread over his wrinkled face. “Good, good,” he spoke approvingly. “You know what you want and are willing to take it. I can admire such a quality.”

He inclined his head toward Pryde, but did not look directly at him. “Leave us.” Pryde practically leapt away, and began to exit out a side door Rey hadn’t seen. The old man lifted a hand, paler than death. “Wait,” he ordered abruptly, and Pryde halted at the door. “Some refreshment, perhaps? You must be in need of it if you have come all this way.” His gaze had not left hers. She didn’t answer, but saw Pryde nod obediently before making his escape.

They watched each other for a few more moments in silence. “You require a guard to see your long unmet grandfather?” he asked in injured tones.

Rey didn’t look back where Ben had stationed himself; she didn’t want to reveal anything to this man of Ben’s identity or her feelings toward him. The less said, the better. “He has made himself necessary to me. If you know who I am, you can’t be surprised that my life is not safe. It’s been under threat for a long time.”

“Longer than you know, I would wager,” he speculated, still with that scrutinizing look. “Come closer. I am unable to stand and greet you as you deserve,” he gestured to his legs, small and apparently useless, “but I would look upon your face.”

“What do you think you will see?” Rey asked warily. Here was a new line to tread, to appeal to his family loyalty without pretending she was overjoyed to be in his presence.

His expression became curious, inquiring. “I am unsure, I will admit.”

“The image of your son?” she intimated, and took a few steps toward him.

“Perhaps,” he conceded. “It has been so many years the memory of his face is nearly lost to me. But there,” he exclaimed softly, and Rey stopped just out of his reach, unwilling to risk the possibility that he might stretch out his arm and touch her. “There I see something, something familiar. That defiance. I remember that.” His voice did not reveal if he was pleased or angered at the reminder. “You do not come asking for a boon.”

“You’re wrong,” she corrected. There was a boon to ask, but not false compliments to flatter him.

“Oh?” He looked more interested than offended. “You state my misapprehension rather bluntly; that is hardly the way to make someone more amenable to what you may ask.”

“I don’t believe in lying.”

“Ah, another admirable quality. I don’t care for it, myself.” Rey raised her eyebrows skeptically. “You doubt me?” he asked calmly.

“It is difficult to believe, coming from a man most of the world has believed dead for thirty years.”

“A necessary evil, I’m afraid. I may not enjoy deceit, but it does not mean one must not resort to it from time to time.”

Rey narrowed her eyes, making a study of him now. “And why lie about your continued state of existence?”

“Self-preservation,” he replied quickly, as though the answer was blatantly obvious. Rey’s brow furrowed, and again he reacted to her dubious expression. “Ah, yes, this is the truth. If anybody knew I still lived, that Skywalker spawn would have come back to finish the job his father started. If not him, the shrew of a sister would have. The so-called queen. Daughter of a farmer, wife of a criminal.”

Rey would not listen to such derisive talk about Leia. Nor, likely, would Ben. “She also gave me help when I needed it most,” she interjected, trying to maintain a diplomatic air despite his provocation.

“Is that so?” He looked pleased at the thought of riling her up, and was apparently willing to feign ignorance to needle her. But she refused to tiptoe around him when he had to be aware of what had been happening to her.

“I will not insult you by assuming you know nothing of the world beyond these walls. You know of my escape months ago.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I have heard of it, yes,” he acknowledged with a nod, folding his hands and steepling his fingers.

“And you know why?” she pressed.

“Snoke had some ridiculous notion of taking your hand in marriage, if I remember correctly.”

The bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed it back. “That was a part of it, yes. But what should concern you most is that he had no intention of giving up his authority; he would not yield sovereignty to me.”

He lifted his chin in a casual challenge. “It was my understanding you were not at all prepared to take on such responsibilities when you were brought to Naboo. You had no idea of who you were.”

“But now I do,” she stated decisively. Here was where her argument must be made. “And I am your blood. Your heir. I am prepared to lead. Despite Snoke’s best efforts, I am ready to claim what is mine.”

“Despite his efforts?” He looked genuinely curious. “Did he not provide you with education and a place in the royal palace? Did he not pluck you out of obscurity and give you more than you ever dreamed of having?”

“He did those things,” she admitted coldly. “But only to the extent he believed necessary. He sought to control me and make an ornament of me, and I will not be controlled. I am not a decoration. I am more than that. I am,” she paused, trying to hide the disgust she felt at the necessary relation, “your granddaughter. And as such, I ask for your support.”

“My support?” A hollow laugh escaped him, and he sounded utterly confused when he asked, “Dear child, what can I do?”

Rey could not tell if he was refusing support or jumping to the challenge. He toed his line very well. “You are not helpless, your Majesty,” she said firmly, keeping her eyes fixed on him. “You still have power and wield it over Snoke. To be blunt, you know that he would have killed you himself if he didn’t still fear you. He would kill me, too. But he has not, so you must still have a hold on him. So I would ask that you use the authority you bear to command him to step down, so that I may ascend to my rightful place as your successor.”

“You have a great deal of faith in my ability to command Snoke.”

“Yes,” she replied simply, and he raised an eyebrow, looking almost pleased. It was the closest thing to a compliment she’d given him. “You are his master; he has spent the last thirty years trying to emulate you.” This was not false flattery, only fact. “Where you command, he obeys. That may not last forever.”

Palpatine was quiet, his steepled fingers tapping against his shriveled mouth in thought. The look he gave her was searching, but he also looked vaguely impressed. Rey was tempted to look away, to see what Ben was doing, to know if she had done right, but she knew that to avert her eyes could be considered weakness. And she would not show weakness now, no matter the roiling of her stomach or the fluttering in her chest.

It was then that Pryde appeared again, entering through the side door, bearing a tray with two gleaming goblets. He offered one to Palpatine, and the other to her. She took it without words, not even voicing her disapproval that Ben had been neglected. Palpatine finally dropped his intense stare to take a deep drink, and Rey’s ability to breathe normally returned momentarily. She took a sip of the wine, far too sweet, just to have something to do. But it did nothing for the dryness in her throat.

Waiting for him to finish was nerve-wracking, not to mention infuriating. She rather suspected he kept the goblet at his lips deliberately, to keep her in suspense. It worked.

When he had finally drained his cup and handed it back to Pryde, who had taken up his post at Palpatine’s side, she couldn’t contain herself. “Well?” she prompted, a little impatiently.

Again he looked contemplative. “What benefit is it to me if you are given your rightful place?” His tone was ambiguous.

“Your line would continue,” she explained as though it should have been the first thing that occurred to him. “The Palpatine name would go on. You are not immune to such an inducement, even if your commitment to individual members of your family is not strong.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked, almost amused at the observation.

“Why else would you send your son, my father, away?” she asked pointedly. “You would not willingly destroy someone who bore your name; however, your personal regard for him could not have been very deep.”

His eyes narrowed, and now the neutrality of his tone began to trickle away. “I will not say you are wrong, but I would be afraid of overstepping myself if I were you, granddaughter. If you were to take your place as my successor, you would need to study your audience before making a potentially offensive claim. Especially since you have made it abundantly clear in your discourse that you have no personal regard for me, despite your fine words of our sharing blood.”

So he caught on to her refusal to pander to him. Not only that, but the menace that manifested itself in his voice was not encouraging. “I never meant to show any personal regard for you,” she admitted, “as you must have none for me. How could either of us share any personal feeling when we are strangers? But it is still true that I am your family, and I only wished to remind you of it, since I have been forced to fend for myself without your support. I do not ask you to like me; I only ask that you do your duty to the Palpatine name that you hold so dear.” Rey began to suspect that her arguments may be falling on deaf ears.

“And what would you do with the Palpatine name?” he challenged, a sudden malice twisting his features. Rey stepped back as he began to cough, the effort of prolonged speaking taking its toll. “What would you do as my successor?”

Rey had no answer for him that he would applaud; that much was clear. It was also clear by his abrupt displeasure that her request was unlikely to be answered favorably. His words and tone were no longer ambiguous.

“Oh, you simple little girl,” he went on, his body beginning to tremble as he leaned himself forward in his chair, a cruel smile spreading over his face. She backed up another step, feeling her hopes crumble at his opening phrase. “Do you think I am blind to what you wish? You are right; I do know what happens outside of these walls, so I know what pathetic goals you have. You wish to appease my enemies. You have no ambition beyond Naboo’s borders. You espouse peace instead of power.”

Again he coughed, a louder hacking sound that lingered for longer than the previous one. His voice caught on the obstruction in his throat as he continued. “You fail to understand that power creates peace. When you rule over all, you are the one who compels others to obey. There is no order without power. Only chaos. Chaos! That is what you would do with  _ my _ name.”

More hacking interrupted his tirade, and it lasted long enough this time that Pryde bent to assist him. But his solicitations were rebuffed, and Palpatine pushed him away with the hand that he had used to cover his mouth. In the firelight, Rey thought she saw a speckle of blood on that hand, and her brow creased in suspicion. His sudden ailment was not the effect of disuse. This was something else.

But Palpatine was not finished with his harangue, and after a deep, rattling breath, he turned his attention back to her, going on as if he had never stopped. “And what’s more, you not only hope to coexist peacefully with my enemies, you conspire with them against your own people! You think I do not know who that boy is who poses as your bodyguard? You think I don’t know he is also Skywalker filth? That he has followed in the feeble footsteps of a man who couldn’t even succeed in killing me? He is nothing but a sword and a putrescent family, and he will be no help to you in the end.”

Rey felt Ben at her side even before he appeared in the corner of her eye, and she didn’t need to look to see the glare on his face. If it was anything like the one she wore, it would be vicious enough.

This did not deter Palpatine, and Rey saw with disgust and morbid concern the flecks of spittle and blood flying from his mouth. “I know. I know it all. You insignificant fools, you think you can come here -” his body was no longer trembling, but shaking, his voice faltering, “- and demand I take your side? You think I would favor you over Snoke, who truly will carry out my work and restore the Empire? You cannot think -” His voice vanished in tortured gagging, a frantic struggle for breath as he gripped the arm of the helpless Pryde. Now Rey glanced at Ben, whose wide-eyed expression showed he was just as confused as she was.

The gagging subsided into another series of wracking coughs. Palpatine’s voice was impossibly weak as he turned a dark glare on her. “What have you done?” he hissed.

“Nothing. I -” Rey’s eyes widened in comprehension and she looked at the goblet still in her hand. It may as well have burned her skin for how quickly she dropped it, and another fear overtook her. She had drunk from it. She  _ was _ a fool. The same poison that was choking Palpatine could be working its way into her. “I have done nothing,” she repeated, her voice weak with despair.

“What a telling statement,” a slithering voice drifted into the chamber, and Rey’s eyes jumped to the side door that was being pushed open.

_ No. _

Ben’s sword was out the next moment, his body instinctively moving to shield Rey, but there was no blocking the sight of Snoke casually entering the room. Rey was frozen in shocked horror, all speech ripped from her as she watched her monstrous enemy stroll into view and confidently cross over to the emperor’s chair. He wore a satisfied smirk, and those deadened eyes were agleam with hatred. Rey began to tremble, her mind a jumble of revulsion and sorrow and self-loathing. Her contempt for herself was only second to the contempt she had for these men.

Snoke went on, that smug expression still aimed toward her. “But the emperor knows and appreciates action over discourse, so I have taken the action where you haven’t. I will admit the conversation has been most stimulating to listen to, but I am done with only listening.”

“Snoke,” Palpatine exclaimed breathlessly, his face incredulous as he realized exactly what Snoke was implying. “You -?”

“Your faith in me is inspiring, my lord,” Snoke overrode him with mock deference, “but the princess is right. As long as you live, you wield power over me. And I will not give up my power to a scavenger rat who was barely lucky enough to be an afterthought of a great dynasty.”

Palpatine was still stunned, even to gasp for the little breath he was able to take in. “But you . . . you would do this . . . to me?”

Snoke’s eyes, which had been narrowed in hatred, now bulged a little wildly, and Rey stepped back at the unfamiliar loss of restraint he betrayed. The soldiers marching into the room may have had something to do with her sudden impulse to retreat, as well. Ben shifted closer to her, and their eyes both darted around as the silent soldiers circled them.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Snoke hissed. “I must keep the power you bestowed on me by any means necessary. It is nothing personal.”

Pryde, who had remained quiet for so long, exploded in angry scorn. “You have killed your sovereign, Snoke! He has raised you from nothing and you have destroyed his line!”

Snoke maintained his frighteningly quiet volume, though there was no mistaking the mad glint in his eye. “No, I think you’ll find  _ you _ have killed your sovereign, Pryde, by serving him the wine,” and Pryde reeled at the accusation. The horror he had directed toward Snoke was quickly turned inward.

Rey was torn between making her own accusations and preparing to fight her way out, but before she could make a decision, another sound rent the air that brought her attention back to where the emperor sat. A terrifying sound.

Palpatine was laughing. He could barely hold his head steady, and yet he laughed maniacally, his blood-spattered mouth turned up in a deranged grin. “Yes,” he managed to drawl, blood beginning to dribble past his lips. “I commend you, Snoke. It was about time you did what was necessary. Nothing will stand in your way now.”

Rey shuddered. Could it be more horrible? The man was in his dying throes, and yet he approved of this treachery? He was more sadistic than she had ever realized. Even the betrayal of his favored successor delighted him. This was the final blow that staggered her; nothing would have made him support her. Oh, why had she come? And how could she listen to that disgusting laugh?

Palpatine lolled his head toward her, his strength waning rapidly. “You see, girl? You see what it takes -” He gagged again, the rattle in his throat overpowering him. “You will never be my -”

He never finished his final taunt. Still with the ghost of that demonic laugh on his lips, his head drooped abruptly, his upper body following behind. The deadweight of his torso wasn’t enough to topple his body to the floor, so he still sat there, bent and folded. Broken. Dead. The grandfather who had haunted her life for two and a half years, who she had met mere minutes before, was suddenly gone. And all she could do was stare at his body in gruesome fascination.

But then the strange tingles poked at her fingers.

_ This isn’t done yet, _ she thought to herself as her fate became obvious. But she would not go down without a fight. She would not allow Snoke to crow over her dead body the way he did as he hunched over the corpse of her last hope.

_ No. Not your last hope. _

“Rest, my liege,” Snoke crooned above Palpatine’s fallen head. “You know I will carry on your legacy, a legacy I took from you.”

He turned to face Rey and Ben, and at last Rey drew her sword, steeling herself. “As for you,” he spat at the pair of them, “you really thought you could come here and convince him to turn against me? I, who have done nothing but serve him? As though two years in a palace gives you some kind of claim? As though that gown makes you any more than the filthy scavenger you are?

“You have made a fool of me, Highness, and for the last time. You and your traitorous lover will not have the chance again. You have failed. You will die, and so will your precious rebellion against me. I will take what is mine and restore order over all the Realms. You,” he punctuated his words with a pointed finger, “cannot stop me.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ben fuming, ready to attack and waiting for the opportune moment. The soldiers circling them drew nearer, and she adjusted her grip, fear and resolve on their familiar collision course. Any moment, and she would spend the last of her strength fighting and praying that Ben would live. Snoke was right about one thing -- she would die.

An echoing bang rattled through the castle, and she jumped, her eyes drawn once again to the side door. Ben did the same, as did Snoke and several of his soldiers. Pryde paid it no heed, kneeling beside Palpatine’s chair and practically weeping. The bang was swiftly followed by distant shouts and the clanging of weapons against each other. Was it Alek and Victoria? Did they possibly stand a chance? Rey felt a swell of emotion that she and Ben didn’t stand entirely alone, hopeless as their chances still seemed.

But something else occurred to her during this brief distraction, a strengthening of that errant thought that had just passed through her mind. They weren’t alone. And as much as she had pinned her hopes on succeeding in this mission, it was not the end. Not for her people, and not for the Nine Realms. Snoke, driven to desperation by months of insurrection, thought that eliminating the Palpatine line once and for all would solve his problems. Everything that had been set in motion since her escape must have made him give in to the fear that Palpatine would choose her, and that was where Snoke made his fatal error.

She ignored the scratchiness irritating her throat, and met his confused eye. “You’re wrong,” she declared triumphantly. “You have failed.”

His eyes narrowed quizzically. “I just took away your last hope,” he pointed out.

“No,” she said softly, revealing a grim smile. “No, you destroyed  _ your _ last chance. You heard him; he didn’t falter in his support of you, and you have killed your own ally because you’re blinded by fear. You know you will lose, and you mistakenly think stopping us will get you what you want.”

He looked contemptuous, but there was a hint of trepidation behind his expression, helped along by the sounds of the fight below. “Bold words.”

“Killing me won’t change what’s coming for you. Your armies are turning against you, the people are in uprising. The Realms are about to march against you, and no matter the numbers you have gathered, your soldiers  _ will _ lose because they will no longer serve a tyrant. And killing me will only spark more support from across the land, from all the nations as well as Naboo. You will make a martyr of me if you strike me down. I will be more powerful in death than you can possibly imagine.” The sounds of combat resounded clearly off the stone walls of the castle, giving her greater daring.

“So go ahead,” she challenged, nothing to lose now, though she felt a twinge of sorrow at the look Ben threw at her. “Do it. Make that mistake. Because I may not be around to see you fall, but I know it will be all the more assured.”

Her body began to tremble, and not from fear. She must control it as long as she could.

Snoke didn’t give her long. “At them!” he hollered, and the circle of soldiers converged.

She and Ben hardly had a chance to exchange a look and a nod before meeting the attack, swiveling as one so that they were at each other’s back. Rey hadn’t counted how many soldiers had entered the room, and in the rushing melee she still couldn’t tell. They were outnumbered, weapons coming at both of them from all sides, but they held their place for a good while, blocking and striking where they could. Rey did little more than defend her position against so many enemies, but Ben fought like a madman, his sword twirling and slashing with deadly grace. Stroke after stroke he dealt, and over the clash of metal and the grunts of the fighting, Rey could hear the cries of men who were pierced by his furious attack. And where the aim of his sword failed, his brute strength made the difference, shoving his opponents onto the floor with raging power.

As the fighting continued, Rey and Ben slowly separated, dividing the chaotic crowd into two smaller clusters of violent confusion. Only two came at Rey, most believing Ben was the greater threat, and she received a jolt from one of their strikes that nearly knocked her off her feet, sending her stumbling across the growing gap into Ben’s back. He hunched over, allowing her to lean into the momentum of the blow, then propelled her forward again by pushing as he straightened with mighty force. She charged at her adversaries, clutching the sword with both hands and swinging with a ferocious yell. It was a clumsy attack, easily batted aside by one of the soldiers, but she dropped to her knees once he swatted her sword away with his, pivoted quickly, and swiped at both their legs. One fell, dropping his weapon and clinging to the calf that was now spewing blood, but the other leapt out of the way just in time.

The time he took to regain his balance was enough to get Rey back on her feet, though the effort to do so was more than she expected. Adrenaline alone would not be enough to fight against the weakening effects of the poison, but she was still a long way away from withdrawing. She was better prepared for the blow when he lunged forward, and they were soon locked in an arduous volley of thrusts and parries, moving about the room with the force of each clip. The sweat was pouring off of her, and her muscles groaned each time she lifted her sword.

Between blows, she was able to see Ben, his own conquests littered about the floor in various states of consciousness, taking on the last two soldiers. Their weapons crossed and entangled together, all in a stalemate as they strained and struggled to force one another away. Rey blocked another lunge as Ben freed one of his hands from his sword and punched one of his assailants in the head. She saw the man stumble and the swords were released, but she couldn’t concentrate on the aftermath and her own battle at the same time.

Her remaining opponent pressed in close, taking advantage of her distraction, and she barely dodged being impaled in the stomach. She rolled out of the way, and raised and twisted her wrist to cuff him with her hilt. He grunted and staggered with the hit on his head, and turned, off-balance, but not in time to block her downward plunge into his thigh. Down he fell with a wail of agony, and Rey kicked his sword away before kneeling to punch him again, decisively hammering his head to the floor, and he lay still.

She stood, using her sword as a prop to help her regain her feet, just as Ben threw his last opponent into the wall. They were far apart, she having backed up into the shadowy end of the chamber, and he remained close to the chair where the emperor’s dead body was slumped over, hidden by Pryde’s guilt-stricken arms. And where Snoke still stood, eyes wide and frantic in the face of Ben’s fury.

Rey couldn’t have stopped Ben if she even tried, her body feeling heavy, her weight being borne on her sword that now acted as a cane to keep her upright. And Ben, the passion of battle still upon him, crossed the little distance there was in long strides to thrust his sword into Snoke’s nose. The force of his charge sent Snoke falling onto his back, and as he pushed himself up, Ben’s sword was still there, never wavering.

Rey shuffled forward as best she could, tense and afraid of what was about to come. But it was slow work.

“I should have known it would come to this,” Snoke said, his voice as oily as ever it had been, but more feeble and afraid amid the defiance.

“You,” Ben snarled, his anger and hatred boiling underneath the surface, “you took my life.”

Snoke barked a haughty laugh. “You gave it up willingly, or have you forgotten?”

Ben’s sword shook. “No more. You won’t be able to hurt anyone anymore.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” Snoke taunted. “Run me through. Spill my blood and avenge your pathetic existence.”

Rey could see Ben’s shoulders tremble. “Don’t think I’m waiting for your command.”

Snoke sneered. “What, are you waiting for  _ hers? _ ” He jerked his head toward where Rey was hauling herself closer, her breath beginning to constrict. “She doesn’t have much strength to command with, or won’t for much longer, I’d say.”

Ben’s head whipped around to her in panic, but Rey couldn’t bear to confirm what Snoke had just said. He would see soon enough.

“And what will that do for all your efforts at heroism?” Snoke jeered, and Ben slowly turned back to him. “It’ll be for nothing. Betraying me for her will have gained you nothing.”

“I never claimed to be a hero,” Ben replied, shaking his head.

“Good, because you’re not,” Snoke said bluntly, cruelly. “You’re nothing more than a child in a mask, a weapon that’s worthless without someone to lead you. You’re nothing, Kylo. Nothing but a miserable traitor.”

Ben drew himself up to his full height, taking a deep breath, and Rey stopped instinctively.

“My name is Ben Solo. I am more than you made me. I am not a hero, but I am no longer your servant. I know what I have to do.”

For a moment, Rey couldn’t even hear the distant fighting, as her heart swelled with pride. A tear swam in her eye, and she was grateful that she had been granted this moment to hear the man she loved reclaim himself.

Snoke’s sneer disappeared. “So be it. Ben Solo.”

For another moment, Ben held his father’s sword to Snoke’s chest. Then, without a word, he threw it down. Rey’s lips parted in surprise, but it was nothing to the shock of Snoke’s expression. Ben crouched and leaned in toward his former master.

“She’s right,” he asserted softly, but resolutely. “You’ve failed. You will not win this fight. You never would have. You were never going to control her. And you have no more power over me.”

Any semblance of defiance in Snoke’s face was gone as Ben stared him down. After a long -- years’ long, in fact -- showdown, Ben was no longer crushed under the weight of Snoke’s command, and when he stood up again, there was a lightness in his whole body that showed the freedom he took back for himself.

And that was when Rey collapsed onto her stomach.

Her body was near in convulsions by the time Ben reached her, hunching down and grasping her shoulders. “Rey?” his voice quavered in panic. “Rey, don’t tell me you -” She couldn’t tell him, her voice gone, and his face was horrified as her silence confirmed the worst. “No, you can’t . . .”

Thank heaven her vision was blurring, because she couldn’t bear to see in focus the anguish in Ben’s face. Hearing him voice his denial and urge her to hold on and fight was difficult enough. She couldn’t speak, her body becoming wracked with pain, and she tried to reach out to take his hand. But as she did, a dark shape loomed up behind Ben, becoming more clear with each silent, menacing step. She couldn’t see the weapon in his hand, but she could see the bright glint of it reflecting off the candlelight, and she gasped with what was left of her voice.

Ben’s eyes hardened in understanding and decision at her panic, and for a mad moment she was afraid he was willing to die along with her. She wouldn’t allow that to happen. The hand that had reached for him altered course, and with the last burst of strength she had, she slipped her knife from her boot and slid it along the floor into Ben’s hand as Snoke raised the sword above his head.

Ben spun with the knife, stabbing it forward with all his strength. His body blocked her view of the deed, but the sword Snoke held clattered to the floor, and he staggered back again, laying limp fingers on the hilt that was buried deep in his gut. He fell back and out of Rey’s sight, but the finality of his existence was made clear by his rattling breaths dying away. And then all was silence.

She wished she could have rejoiced aloud, but that was not possible. Her vision was tunneling, the darkness folding in around her. Ben turned back to her, his arms taking her up and cradling her.

“Rey?” he pleaded, and her heart broke for him. “No, no, stay with me, Rey.”

The dark was closing in, and she could only hear him now, him and other voices drawing near, a cacophony that she couldn’t make sense of.

But she could still hear him.

“Be with me.”

The darkness took her.


	28. Going Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The healing process is lengthy, in more ways than one.

A cool cloth being laid on her forehead was the first thing Rey felt. And then the headache. And then the soreness that beleaguered her entire body. An uncontrolled, muted groan escaped her as her eyes fluttered open, the dim light harsh on her eyes. She squeezed them shut briefly, allowing her mind to become a little more alert, but it felt like she was crawling out of a fog.

“Good morning,” a soft, feminine voice murmured from her right. Rey chanced opening her eyes again, blinking as rapidly as she could to adjust to the light.

She was greeted by Rose’s blossoming smile, and she blinked again in disbelief. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? Was she back in Bacca? Had she ever actually left it?

“Rose?” she asked, her voice appallingly hoarse.

Rose shifted out of her chair, kneeling next to the bed that Ray lay in. “I’m surprised you remember my name. We met so briefly.”

“Of course I remember your name,” Rey uttered, finding it difficult to swallow and clear her throat.

“Well, that’s a good sign then,” Rose said with a bracing nod, rising to her feet and leaving Rey’s line of sight for a few seconds. Rey wanted to follow her movements, but it was hard work to move her head. “It means your mind wasn’t compromised, no matter the toll your body took.”

She appeared again, a cup of water in her hands. “Now, don’t drink this all at once. Just sip. But I can tell you I’m glad you’re awake again; it’ll be much easier to take care of you if you’re conscious.” She set the cup down on a side table and wrapped her arms around Rey’s middle. Rey gripped as well as she could with her fingers, and she was surprised at how easily Rose was able to lift her to a semblance of a sitting position.

Rose didn’t bother offering her the cup, but held it to Rey’s lips herself. The first sip bit a little at Rey’s throat, but the second was much easier and more soothing. Rose stood patiently and silently until the cup was half-empty. Then she took it away, efficiently producing a towel to dab at Rey’s mouth.

Rey experimented with lifting her hands and arms. They responded, but she wasn’t able to raise them very high before she had to let them drop. She didn’t even try to follow suit with her legs, but the wiggling of her toes gave her some relief that she was relatively intact.

“That’ll take a little time to come back, but it will,” Rose said confidently as she watched Rey’s silent experiments. “Your body went through a tremendous ordeal, and it’ll take some time to gain its full strength again. But you’re not dead, and that’s the important thing.” She sat back on her chair.

“If this is living,” Rey replied, her voice a little less hoarse, “then I’d almost rather be dead.”

“I think there are a few people who wouldn’t be very pleased if that happened,” Rose said sagely, “so I wouldn’t go blasting that around. Unless you want to keep fighting.”

Rey groaned. “No, I’d like to avoid that if I possibly can.” She sighed, looking at Rose, who in turn looked expectant. There was a barrage of questions waiting to be answered, and Rose was waiting for them to come.

First things first. “Where am I?”

“In the northern castle.”

“Still?” Rey asked, her head lifting a little in surprise. On a second perusal, the room  _ was _ unfamiliar.

“It’s well-appointed, and we didn’t dare risk moving you.”

“How long have I been . . . out?”

“Three days,” Rose said grimly, none of her usual cheer. The situation must have been dire, then. But that wasn’t entirely unexpected; Rey had given herself up to death, after all. “The first day was . . .” Rose shuddered. “It was uncertain if we’d be able to bring you back. You settled the second day, and we were fairly certain the last of the poison had been expelled, but we had no idea what the lingering effects might be. I hope, now that you’re awake and talking -- and moving --, the harm won’t be long-lasting, even if recovery is slow.”

Rey lifted her hand again, letting it hover longer. A slow recovery didn’t sound terribly pleasant. But Rose was right; it was better than the alternative. And she’d better keep asking questions while she was able.

“Is Ben all right?”

Rose creased her eyebrows curiously, then gasped lightly. “Oh, Ben. Forgive me, I’ve hardly known what to call him. You mean the queen’s son?”

Rey nodded. At least Rose didn’t call him Kylo Ren. Did she know that had once been an option?

“He’s well. He’s sleeping now. He wouldn’t for ages, but . . . well,” she trailed off sheepishly.

“Even Ben’s not immune to a strong sleeping draught laced into his drink,” another voice chimed in, and Rey turned her head to see a grizzled man standing in the doorway.

“Luke!” she exclaimed softly, a smile breaking free.

He gave her a slight smile as he strolled in. “Well, I’m happy that you’re glad to see me. I wasn’t sure what kind of reception I’d get from you.”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy to see you?”

His mouth pursed a little. “Oh, just private reasons.”

Rose stood. “I think that is my cue to leave.”

Before Rey could protest, Luke laid a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “No, I think your patient would like to hear from you a little more before you go.”

“Our patient, you mean,” Rose said shyly. Rey held back an amused smile; to Rose, Luke was likely still a mythical figure to be revered. “I wouldn’t have known how to help her without you, Master Skywalker.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Luke, Rose. Luke.” Rose ducked her head. “Perhaps you’d like to inform Rey on how we treated her.”

“Actually, I’m more interested in hearing what you’re doing here at all,” Rey interjected. “How did you know where to go? Is there still a war about to start? Who else is here?” She took in a sudden breath. “Is Snoke . . .?”

“Ash,” Luke replied succinctly, and put his hand on Rey’s shoulder. “Now, if you want answers, I’m willing to let you hear them, but you can’t work yourself up. This is the first time you’ve been coherent, and we don’t want you to push it. Is that right, Rose?”

Rose nodded eagerly. “That’s right.”

Luke backed away, folding his arms. “Fire away.”

Rose hesitated, then giggled. “What do you want answered first?”

If only everything could be told her at the same time, then she wouldn’t be forced to give priority to any of her questions. “Is there still a war on?”

Rose looked to Luke for a moment. “No. There shouldn’t be, at least. When we found you and realized what had happened, Master Skywa- Luke sent riders to put a halt to any fighting.”

“Was there fighting already?”

Rose shook her head, but looked uncomfortable. “It was pretty close to it. Troops mustering and all. Especially after Queen Leia and Master -- Luke -- showed up. It seemed like any minute we could get word to prepare for battle.”

“And then word came,” Luke spoke up. “Not word we wanted, but something that I knew was a possibility from the time you left my home. Snoke had abandoned his armies and was racing north. I knew that meant he’d finally found out about your presence in Naboo and guessed where you were headed.”

“So you followed him,” Rey said.

“Well, not the entire army, but me, Chewie, and some of his fighters from Bacca. And the good physician here,” he nodded toward Rose again.

“Finn was one of the fighters that came,” Rose added, and Rey felt a small leap in her chest at the mention of her friend. “We wouldn’t let them leave us behind,” she admitted.

“And a good thing you didn’t, because I wouldn’t have wanted Rey’s sick all over me,” Luke said, wrinkling his nose. “You saved her with your quick thinking.”

Rey’s forehead creased, but Rose answered her before she could ask. “When we came in, you had just fallen unconscious. The prince told us what happened to you, and . . . well . . .” Rose flushed.

“Let’s just say that Rose knew how to empty the contents of your stomach and leave it at that,” Luke spoke up. Rey couldn’t stop her nose from wrinkling, either. That couldn’t have been a pleasant experience.

“But Master Luke knew that wouldn’t be enough, since it had already affected you so strongly. He knew of a plant, a flower, that might save you.” She glanced at Luke curiously. “What’s it called again?”

“The amidala,” he replied. “Which fortunately grows plentifully in Naboo. Named after a great queen of Naboo’s past, actually. I thought that a fitting treatment for you, even if it was a devil to get it into you. We didn’t know for at least a day if the little tea we were able to force was having any effect.”

Rey nodded, her head beginning to pound a little. “But there’s no more threat of war?” she repeated, requiring absolute confirmation.

“We’re still waiting for the messengers to return with the acknowledgment and terms of dispersal on both sides, but that should come in the next day. They would have reached the southern borders by yesterday morning,” Luke said.

“And the Realms might agree, but would Snoke’s army?” Rey asked doubtfully.

“With no Snoke, there is nothing for the army to fight for. They have a queen to await orders from now. If they have any military leaders worth their salt, they’ll realize that and not press the issue.”

“You’ve saved us all, your Highness,” Rose said softly. “Just like you wished to.”

Rey could not share in Rose’s assuring smile; her mission had been a failure, and they had won despite her efforts.

“Rose, perhaps now you’d be so kind to give me a few minutes with the princess,” Luke said gently, his perceptive eyes narrowed on Rey. “See if there’s something in the kitchens you’ll approve for her to eat. At the very least, an infusion of amidala would not go amiss.”

Rose nodded and, with another smile to Rey, she left the room. Luke, meanwhile, took the chair she vacated and scooted it closer to Rey.

“Out with it.”

Rey met his eyes sadly. “I can’t take credit for saving everyone, not the way Rose thinks.”

Luke snorted. “Rubbish. Why in the world would you think that?”

“Luke, this was a doomed mission. The emperor was never going to side with me; he made that very clear. And then Snoke found out about our plans, anyway. I . . . didn’t really do anything, at least not anything that made any lasting difference.”

Luke made a curious face, pensive and confused. “That’s not what Ben said.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, judging from Ben’s account of everything that happened here before we showed up, you know better than to say you haven’t made a difference.” Rey was still confused. “Did you or did you not tell Snoke that he would lose even if you died? That his armies would fall and nobody would fight for him any longer?”

“Yes,” she admitted slowly.

“And why do you think that is? Why do you think his army’s strength was failing and the people were rebelling and the Realms came fighting?”

“Well, Ben placed his knights in -” she began to answer.

“Because of  _ you, _ Rey,” Luke interrupted. “Because of the hope  _ you _ gave countless numbers of people. Yes, things here didn’t go according to plan, but you shouldn’t believe that makes you a failure. Everything that has happened -- Ben’s turn, the Realms uniting against Snoke, your people fighting for a free nation -- that’s because of you.”

Rey bowed her head. They were fine words, and she’d heard them from Ben, too, but if that was true, it would take her some time to really believe it.

“And if you still don’t believe me, look at  _ me. _ Look at what I was before you came into the picture,” Luke pressed on. “Maybe not content with my life, but doing nothing to change it, either. And then you come along, you challenge me and remind me of what I should be doing.” He shrugged. “So I did something. For the first time in a long time, I did something.”

Rey smiled. “You knew you’d be an effective diversion, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Luke swiftly replied. “Ben may think Snoke had no interest in me, but I knew that if I joined the fight, he’d be distracted for a little while, at least, from trying to find out what you were up to. It’d make him more crazy to know that the ‘legendary Luke Skywalker’ was coming out of hiding to assist the Realms. It kept his eyes off you for some time, I’d like to think.”

“I think it did,” she said. “Thank you.”

He placed his hand over hers, a crooked smile softened by sincere eyes. “Thank  _ you.” _

Rey leaned back into her pillows, breathing deeply. It was so nice to be able to do that. “So they’re both dead,” she reflected.

“Dead and burned,” Luke confirmed. “I made sure of that this time. Leia will be pleased.” He paused briefly. “She would have come, but someone needed to stay behind and command the army in case the worst did happen. And she  _ is _ the General Queen.”

Rey nodded, wondering if Ben was disappointed that Leia had stayed behind. “The worst nearly did happen. Snoke nearly killed both remaining Palpatines.”

“Rey, don’t -”

“I drank poison, Luke,” Rey stated baldly. “I took a drink from an enemy, and I drank it.”

Luke hesitated. “Yes, you did.”

“And how did I manage to survive? Sheer luck. It killed the emperor almost instantly.”

“Well, he was over ninety years old, decrepit and ill. You, on the other hand, are young, in good physical health, and you didn’t take much.” Luke’s voice abruptly shifted into an unexpected, jocular tease. “But yes, you’re right. What  _ were _ you thinking?”

Rey’s eyes widened, but Luke only grinned mischievously. All at once, she went on the defensive. “I was nervous! It was hard to think! You try standing in front of that man and see how well you do.”

All Luke did was raise his eyebrows.

“All right, you’re the one person that argument holds no water with.”

“I made my own mistakes with the emperor, Rey. You know that,” he said kindly. “I’m not going to fault you for one when you’re already berating yourself over it.”

She shook her head.

“Ben’s doing the same thing.”

Her head shot up. “What? Why? He didn’t drink poison.”

“It was his plan for you to come here, and he was so sure it would work in your favor. That stubborn will in him that won’t believe he could be wrong,” Luke mused with a rueful expression.

“He knew he could be wrong,” Rey argued. “He did so much that I didn’t know about until -”

“Yes, that much became clear when it was one of his knights that warned us about Snoke’s flight. That was a shock to us all. Not to mention the pair about to charge in here with no support when we came barreling up the road at Snoke’s heels. But as much as he was able to plan for, as much his other ideas worked out, the one that actually involved you nearly resulted in your death.”

“I chose to go along,” Rey maintained. “I knew there were risks, but I chose it, anyway.”

“And you’ll need to tell him that,” Luke urged. “You’ll probably need to say it more than once. Remind him that no one can make you do something you don’t want to do. And somewhere inside of him, he knows he didn’t force you into this. But it was all still his idea, and he’s nearly killed himself with watching over you and blaming himself. I almost had to force-feed him that sleeping concoction; until last night, he hadn’t left your side. And when he does wake up and realizes what I did to him,” Luke whistled, “there will be hell to pay.”

Rey was sorry to hear of Ben’s self-condemnation, but she couldn’t resist a smile at the thought of a vengeful Ben coming after Luke for making him sleep. And to know he wouldn’t willingly leave her alone rekindled a warmth in her breast. She longed to see him, to see the light in his eyes and tell him what she hadn’t been able to before, that she was proud of him and that she loved him. He knew the second part, of course, but she had wanted so desperately to say it when she had been sure death held her in its grip, that she would not hesitate to say it again when he did appear.

“He may wish to hide you in the folds of his cloak going forward,” Luke alluded to Ben’s starry myth with another mischievous quirk of his mouth.

Rey thought that, given her current state, her body wouldn’t be able to produce a blush, but that was apparently a fool’s hope. “So are you coming around to his way of thinking, then?” she asked in an attempt to steer Luke away from more personal observations.

“I’m considering it. He’s given me ample proof of the lengths a man will go to in order to protect the queen he loves.” Luke would not be steered away, it seemed.

Rey pressed her lips together in embarrassment. “How long have you known?”

“Known?” he repeated. “I’ve  _ known _ only three days. The way he refused to leave you, the castigation, the longing looks, the times I found him holding your hand -- that all made it fairly obvious.”

“But . . .” she prompted.

“But . . . I suspected from the day Chewie brought you to my door and you told me what Ben had done for you. I knew he had to have significant motivation to break the chains that Snoke bound him with, and him being in love with you was a plausible explanation. As for you, I wasn’t quite sure of what you thought of him. I wondered when you asked me about being attracted to the wrong person if you were thinking of Ben, but you might recall I told you not to name names. But later you  _ made _ me talk about him, and I could tell that, even if you weren’t in love with him, you had an uncommon interest in him.”

He smiled awkwardly. “So I can’t say I’m surprised by this turn of events.”

“He doesn’t want me to love him,” Rey said somberly.

Luke sobered. “I know how that feels. What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know yet. I love him, and I want him to stay with me, but I can’t . . .”

“Go into seclusion,” he finished ironically. “You’ve got some decisions to make still.”

She nodded.

“But first, you need to mend,” Luke said a little more firmly, rising to his feet. “And considering how long you’ve managed to keep up a conversation, I have high hopes that you’ll make a full recovery. But we’ll leave it to the physician to declare it officially.”

Rey leaned back again into her pillow, allowing the weariness to take her over again now that the discussion had come to a close. Luke began to tiptoe his way out of the room.

And then a door slammed out in the hall, and she raised her head quickly.

“Luke!” a familiar voice shouted out, and Luke halted in the doorway, sending her a pointed look.

“Luke, what did you give me?” Ben appeared suddenly, towering over his uncle in an indignant fury. His hair was wild, his clothes were rumpled, and his face was contorted in rage; Rey had never been so happy to see him in her life. “What were you -” he cut off at the long-suffering look Luke was giving him, and whirled to face her, his eyes wide with frantic hope.

She pushed herself feebly and unsuccessfully into a better sitting position, meeting his gaze with a shy smile that was quickly threatening to devolve into tears. He spluttered incoherently for a split second, and then launched himself across the room. He made it to her in three long strides, and cast himself on the bed, his arms wrapped around her middle and his face buried in her blanketed lap.

“Thank God,” he muttered into the blankets, and his body began to shake with uncontrolled sobs. Rey’s tears fell more quietly as she stroked his hair, wearing a grateful smile that would not budge as she looked upon this great-hearted man who had borne so much for her sake. In her heart, she repeated the words he uttered.

_ Thank you, Lord. _

* * *

The next few days passed in a surreal haze. Rey was confined to her bed as strength slowly trickled back into her limbs. It was not a circumstance she enjoyed, being entirely unused to simply lying about, and she grew a little irritable at the necessity. She certainly had never slept so much in her life, and she felt like a useless worm, no matter how often Ben and the others assured her otherwise. It was easy for them to say; they were free to move about if they so desired.

Not that Ben strayed very far from her room. He made himself a permanent fixture at her side, reading to her from a myriad of books he’d found who-knew-where and keeping an unshakable hold on her hand. It was as though he was afraid she would vanish into thin air if he was not touching her. She had no complaints, of course. When she was feeling cooped up, his thumb caressing her knuckles was one of the few gestures guaranteed to soothe her. Exhausted as she was those first few days, his deep lilt often sent her off into untroubled sleep. And when she awoke again, he was always there. Sometimes asleep himself. She would watch him in quiet adoration until he awoke, which was nearly as restful as sleeping herself.

Ben was not the only one to keep her company. Finn, Luke, and Chewie were regular visitors, though the latter two were savvy enough to recognize that their presence was not required beyond sharing the latest reports from the south and asking her opinion on what orders to send as the armies dispersed and the fate of her nation was in an understandable state of uncertainty. Finn was a little less discerning, and often Chewie had to strong-arm him into giving Rey and Ben privacy. Rey appreciated his efforts, although her mind was sent into a tumble as the official requests began pouring in; as she lay there, barely moving, the nation she had fought for actually had fallen into her lap. She may not wear the crown as yet, but she was now sovereign.

This was totally unreal. Perhaps if she had been present with the armies or commanded great battles, she might feel more solidly that her goal was truly achieved. But now that she was expected to be queen, she felt totally adrift being so far removed from, well, everything. So many months of waiting had not prepared her for the feeling of actually winning. In her bed, it felt like pretending.

There was also a vague resentment that she wasn’t allowed to properly rest and feel at peace before being bombarded with state affairs. Logically she knew that business must be attended to, but personally she didn’t want to use her brain right away. Luke seemed to understand this, and was adept at couching suggestions in a way that she could simply agree while making it seem as though his suggestions originated from her. This was a relief; it allowed her to keep her mind and heart where she preferred it to be, however temporarily she knew she could avoid full responsibility.

“I shouldn’t avoid the responsibility, though,” she said to Ben one rainy evening as she rested her head against his chest. He had found a way around the “confined to bed” rule by carrying her to the window seat and cradling her to him, she wrapped in her bedclothes. They had spent many an evening in such an attitude, even after she was able to take tentative steps on her own, in speech and silence, reveling in the simple feel of holding each other.

“I asked for it. I demanded it,” she reflected. “And now that I have it, all I want is to stay put?”

She felt the rumble in his chest as he chuckled. “You don’t want to stay put. You hate staying put.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Well, I’m not in a hurry to be in the thick of things, that’s all. And that’s not fair. The people need me; this peace won’t last if it’s left unanchored, and I need to start actually making decisions, and not let Luke guide me by my leading-strings.”

Ben sighed. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Or mercy. You’ve been through something here, and whatever your responsibilities are, it’s also important that you’re in a fit state to lead. Besides, you won’t be satisfied putting off your duty for too long. You’re already restless, and that will eventually extend to royal activities as well as physical ones.”

“You think so?”

“I know it. And this strange pretending feeling will pass once you’re in the thick of it, too. You’ll have plenty to remind you this isn’t pretend.”

Rey snuggled into him deeper, and his arms tightened around her. The window they looked out of was on the cliff-side of the castle, and she could see the fields and distant waters of the lake. They were truly beginning to grow green, and she enjoyed seeing the gradual change of the season work its magic on the flora.

“I just want to stay here and see what the Lake Country looks like in full bloom.”

“That might take longer than your people will allow,” he replied.

“Have you seen it?” She peered up at him. “I mean, I assume you’ve seen it. You’ve seen more of my country than I have.”

He nodded. “I have. Not that I had the time to enjoy it, but it is beautiful. The grasslands grow wild, and there are a few hidden waterfalls south of this valley you should see. Even from here, you’d be able to enjoy the view. That field below will be a riot of color, yellow and purple and white, and the lake will glitter like a sapphire in the sun.”

Rey smiled secretly to herself; it was not just the stars that turned Ben into a storyteller.

“And I’ll miss it all.”

“You can come back when things are better settled,” he assured her.

“Oh, yes, just come back, as though I’m not already intruding,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Rey,” Ben said in amazed tones, “has no one told you that this house is yours?”

She lifted her head to look at him more closely. “No,” she said, drawing her voice out skeptically.

He nodded firmly. “This is the Palpatine holding, the one that pre-dates the family’s ascent to the throne. Do you remember one of the emperor’s unofficial titles?”

_ Oh. _ “The Tyrant of the Northern Mountains.”

“No one in Naboo knew where the family home was, just that it was near the mountains. That’s why so much effort was put into keeping the Gungans from moving too far north. And considering the tactics employed to keep them in check, no one else was eager to try and find it. It’s unknown how much the family themselves actually came here once they took power.”

Rey rested her head on his chest again. “And now it’s mine.” Even now, there was still so much to learn, even about her family. Although, outside of her unresolved questions about her parents, she didn’t want to know much. To be shackled to that name still grated at her.

“And speaking of family homes,” he said, shifting her around so she had to sit up straight and look at him. He looked especially serious, and Rey braced herself.

“I need to go back to Alderaan.”

Rey inhaled quickly, sitting up even taller. Ben took her hands in his, looking down at them as he continued.

“There’s still so much . . .” he exhaled heavily. “So much to fix. So much to make right. And much of that is here, but I need to start at home. With my mother. She deserves that.”

“So do you,” Rey said gently, and Ben looked up at her again. She drew one of her hands out of his grasp and caressed his troubled face. This was one of those responsibilities she had wanted to avoid, but it was only right that Ben make this journey of reparation and reconciliation. Although she had to admit to herself that the thought of being separated from him made her want to weep. “You need to go.”

He nodded, his eyes a swirl of gratitude and sorrow. He bent his head again and brought her hand to his lips in a fervent kiss.

“For how long, do you think?”

He kept his gaze down. “I don’t know. It will take some time. I don’t know where I stand with her.”

“She will welcome you back with open arms,” Rey asserted, squeezing his hand. “I know she will. She’s missed you so much. I’m sure it’s been so hard for her not to come here herself.”

Ben gave a few small nods of acknowledgment.

“Will you go to Aldera?”

He took a deep breath and looked up, his expression now uncertain. “Not sure. Probably. But I hope we can go to Chandrila. I think I might still hold that title, actually.” He scratched at his forehead. “I’m not sure what titles I hold these days. Definitely not Crown Prince. I got demoted to just Prince from that one, I know.”

“Where’s Chandrila?” Rey asked, her lips twitching in amusement at him speaking so casually of noble titles, like they were fruit handed out at a bazaar.

“It’s in southeast Alderaan. Borders along the Great River, close to Hosnia and Bespin. I never spent much time there, but it’s the closest thing we have to a family home.”

“Then I hope you can go there, too.” Rey began to chew the inside of her lip, wondering if she should dare ask her next question.

“What is it?” he asked with a fond, teasing smile.

“You . . .” she hesitated nervously. “You will return, won’t you?”

To her relief, he nodded immediately. “I have no plans to leave you permanently.”

“And then we -” she began hopefully.

“Rey,” he interrupted, his voice weary. “We’ve talked about this. I can’t be . . . I  _ shouldn’t _ be your consort.”

“Ben, hardly anyone knows what you used to be,” she argued, wishing she could convince him. “Rose hasn’t even guessed, and she’s always with us, or Finn or Chewie or Luke. Leia even told me ages ago that no one ever made that connection. To the Realms, I would be taking Ben Solo, prince of Alderaan.”

“Even if nobody made the connection,” he replied, shaking his head, “even if you didn’t have to face the judgment and scrutiny of others, I still know. I still carry that with me.”

“But you’re not that man anymore. You can’t dispute me on that,” she held up an accusatory finger, halting his argument. “You said it yourself. You told Snoke exactly who you are.”

Ben grabbed her finger. “I know what I said; I’m not going back on that. But I am still the man who helped terrorize your people. I have a long way to go before I’ll have made up for everything I did. And until I do, I can’t ask for your hand.”

“So then what  _ will _ you do?” Rey demanded. “Come back to Naboo, but stay away from me while you spend the rest of your life making up for your past?”

“No, I couldn’t stay away from you,” he said, gripping her hands again. “I thought at first that would be my path, but then I almost lost you, Rey. I watched you nearly die in front of me, and I knew that if you lived -- by some miracle, if you lived -- I could never leave you alone. I would dedicate my life to you, to your safety.”

“But not as my husband.”

He averted his eyes and shook his head.

Rey shook her head in confusion. “So you would return and be . . . what, the captain of my guard? How is that any better than you leaving me? How is it better for us to spend our lives together and yet not together, always longing for each other? That is nonsense, Ben.”

Amazingly, he would not be riled into raising his voice. He loosened his grip on her fingers and drew back, his face sadly resolved. “Would you force me into a marriage when I don’t feel worthy of it?”

Her frustration quickly was blanketed with sorrow. How deeply his guilt ran. “No. I wouldn’t force you. But this vision of the future isn’t what I would pick.”

His eyes flicked down and up. “It’s the best I can offer right now.”

This time she voiced aloud her inner response, gentle but firm. “We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your responses to the last chapter were simply overwhelming in the best way. And my slightly evil husband told me that I should wait to post this chapter and just keep you all in suspense. I will admit there was a tiny part of me that laughed at the idea, but I would not take his advice. So, be glad it's me writing this story and not him. ;)
> 
> And I know this chapter doesn't end on a wonderful note, but well . . . even in a fantasy story where there will be conveniences to get to a happy ending, I still have to acknowledge that some things can't be fixed overnight.


	29. The Threads of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey begins her reign, finds opposition and allies, learns about gossip and convenient rumor mills, and prepares for her coronation. It's a busy few months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this chapter was delayed. Some pretty crazy weather hit my area, and I was lucky to even have power as quickly as I did (I still have neighbors without after five days!), but the internet was gone until this afternoon. I was not trying to leave you all in suspense. So, barring any other unforeseen circumstances, the last chapter will be up in a couple of days. Thank you for sticking with this story; it's been a fun ride.

Not many days later, Rose declared Rey fit for travel, which was both relieving and intimidating. There was no more avoiding it. The queen was taking up her throne.

She was also terribly nervous. She had no idea what kind of reception she would have, from the people at large as well as the remaining leaders of the court she had so despised. Some she knew would be more than happy that Snoke was gone, but among them were possible vipers waiting to snatch power for themselves. She could hardly dispose of every person who opposed her; moreover, she didn’t wish to. She would not begin her reign by denying others a second chance, if they were of a mind to take it. Hers would be a new kind of rule, and hopefully a better one. There was a tricky balance to maintain, giving mercy while not being naive, of maintaining the balance between justice and a need to keep the peace. But there would be no mistaking her intentions. There was a new wave coming to overthrow the rotten traditions that subjugated the people, _her_ people.

Fortunately, she would not be left alone in facing this overwhelming test. Luke, Finn, and Rose had requested (or simply informed her of their intention) to come with her so she might have the support of people she knew and trusted while assessing potential allies. Rose stayed mainly to monitor Rey’s health, and Finn, while sure he couldn’t be of much use, was not about to abandon his friend again. Luke’s decision to remain in Naboo for the time being was in order to give Rey an extra advantage as she took her place. Although he had no authority in Naboo’s government, his reputation would be enough to ward off those who might impose on Rey and use her inexperience to advance themselves unfairly, as well as keeping her opponents wary until Rey felt comfortable managing them herself.

Ben and Chewie travelled with them to Theed on their way to Alderaan, along with Alek, Victoria, and the other soldiers who had spent the past several days recovering from the battle. There had been a few casualties from the fight, but more guards were wounded than killed, and with the death of Snoke, their allegiance must formally pass to Rey. She found it a little awkward speaking to them herself, especially the soldiers who she had personally fought, but Alek and Victoria played a large role in keeping them from revolting or escaping, if any were inclined to. All in all, though, they were a docile group as they marched along.

It was a strange journey, made the more uncomfortable because of the stalemate she and Ben were locked in. Although their disagreement never elevated to outright quarreling or contention, they both stubbornly held to their positions in the chief debate of the past couple of days, and there was no sign of yielding. It was difficult for Rey, understanding why Ben was so reluctant to place himself at her side like she wished, but wanting to shake him for keeping them apart when they loved each other. She was both frustrated and sympathetic, and it made for a confusing combination. She remembered Luke’s words about Mara and occasionally wished she had a window to toss Ben out of when she veered more toward vexation than compassion. Maybe that would magically mend every wound from every harrowing memory that still plagued him. And in remembering he was so haunted, she would teeter back to sorrowful pity and simply wish that she could take away all the shame that smote his soul.

They shared a stilted goodbye at the city gates. Perhaps they both would have been more demonstrative if they hadn’t had an audience, but the eyes on them, as well as the discomfort of parting with this question unresolved, meant that Ben didn’t do much more than hold her hand. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and force him to stay, but that would have been counter-productive. Besides, as much as she disagreed with his unrelenting stance on their relationship, she was in complete agreement that he needed to reunite with Leia. So their farewell was marked with soft words and a lingering squeeze of fingers.

Ben’s promise to return rang in her ears louder than any roar or cheer that erupted around her once she entered Theed’s gate. The streets were lined with well-wishers from all walks of life, and aside from the gratitude and humility she felt at such a welcome, her mind was still focused on the knowledge that she and Ben were now walking in opposite directions. She knew this was a day of triumph and celebration, but her heart was heavy.

Rey wasn’t allowed to wallow in this sorrow, though. Joyous a welcome as she received from Naboo’s citizens, there was a great deal of work to be done. She was quickly pelted with demands from all sides, from matters ranging from tax reform to county rebuilding to farming concerns to dismantling the army. It was a daunting beginning, especially since every concern seemed equally important, and Rey was overwhelmed at the task of having to sort through these issues and prioritize the order in which they could be addressed.

She was determined to reorganize the court and, really, the entire government, taking what she had learned from her time in Aldera and Luke’s library, but there was definite pushback, not to mention carrying out the details of such a dreadfully large undertaking. The first hurdle was simply gaining loyalty from the governors who did remain in Theed after Snoke’s fall. This was not an easy process. Some were ambivalent and some were genuinely happy to be freed from Snoke’s tyranny, but others were extremely vocal about Rey’s claims over Snoke’s death. Not that they doubted his demise, but they were skeptical that she hadn’t orchestrated murder in order to seize power.

Surprisingly enough, this was where Enric Pryde proved to be an asset, if not a whole-hearted ally. Still horrified and guilty that he had administered the poison that killed his beloved emperor (stupidly, he had not suspected Snoke had any ulterior motives when he suddenly appeared at the castle door and hurriedly “assisted” him in pouring the wine), he vociferously denounced Snoke’s claims at sovereignty and bore witness to the events that Rey had honestly forgotten he had been present for. This was enough to sway many of them, and for those who ignored him because he and Snoke had always been at loggerheads, another unexpected testimony came from the guards who she and Ben fought, at least those who were still barely conscious enough to witness Snoke’s final end. A couple of those testimonies came in the form of complaints against her, but, laying aside their animosity, the overall description of the conflict corroborated with Pryde’s, and Snoke’s more loyal allies were forced to concede that Snoke had not perished under dubious circumstances.

This paved the way for the more neutral governors to fully accept Rey, and for most of the others to begrudgingly do so. Still, some slight opposition remained, but as long as the majority were willing to throw their support behind her, she had a stable hold on the court, one that she hoped would be even more secure by the time of her coronation.

Never had so many common citizens been allowed in the palace, many of whom were now engaged as messengers that Rey sent to all the reaches of Naboo and beyond. There were envoys trained and equipped to travel all over the Nine Realms, bearing messages of gratitude and friendship, in hopes that diplomatic relations might be renewed and strengthened between countries. There were also hidden allies to be found in Naboo that she wanted to bring to Theed, wishing for new voices to be added to her council that had never been represented. Hopefully there was no more need for an underground Resistance, and she sought out the leaders of that movement to come and share their opinions and experiences with the downtrodden citizenry. There was also a heartfelt desire in her to repair wrongs done to the Gungans, and she sent messengers in search of Rugor’s company, thinking perhaps they would now deem it safe to come out of hiding and send a few ambassadors of their own.

Her opponents, mainly those who held any person below them in derision, were in outcry at her actions, but Rey stood firm. And with Luke acting as silent partner during council meetings, all they could really do was complain and make plans to protect their interests as best they could during a time of radical change.

Luke was ostensibly there to advise Rey, but as she became more confident about stepping into her role, he stepped back more and more. If he offered advice, it was always in private, and the more time passed, the less advice he gave, encouraging her to take counsel and information from the people who actually were residents of Naboo. She was glad, though, that he still stayed, even if his part was becoming reduced day by day.

She was absolutely delighted, as well, when her message to the Gungans was answered by a group of them arriving in Theed a month after she did, one of whom was Delphine. When they presented themselves at the palace, Rey had been eager to greet them, but at the sight of Delphine, her eagerness turned to joy, and they embraced like old friends.

“So,” Delphine looked around the receiving hall, “you weren’t entirely honest with us, were you, your _Highness?”_

Rey blushed a little, and the others surrounding them chuckled a little at her awkwardness. Thank goodness the governors present were standing at a distance and couldn’t see her face in detail. “No. I’m afraid not. I hope you will forgive me.”

“Of course,” Delphine responded warmly. “As I told you before, I _knew_ you and I couldn’t be enemies. Now you have rewarded that faith. We won’t dispute over silly things like what name I thought you had.” Her voice was comfortingly ironic, and Rey smiled.

“But now that I see you,” Delphine continued, her low voice flowing easily, “I wonder where your love is. He can’t be too far, can he?”

Rey ducked her head, her smile vanishing abruptly. She had received a short letter from Ben only the day before, written at least a fortnight earlier. She appreciated the consideration, but the brevity of his words reminded her of the gulf between them, and her reply consequently wasn’t much better. So she had strengthened her resolve to keep thoughts of him at bay during her busy days. Usually she did a decent job of it. “No, he isn’t here. He had other business to attend to.”

Delphine turned wide eyes on her. “But he can’t stay away for long, can he? We knew perfectly well you weren’t actually wed, but you are bound to each other in feeling, anyway. You love him, yes?”

Rey pressed her lips together, wishing Delphine’s voice wasn’t carrying quite so clearly. She saw out of the corner of her eye some of her council members exchanging strange glances with each other. She nodded mutely, and Delphine just shook her head in bemusement.

“You Naboo, so shy and proper. If you have a love, there should be no hiding it. And he will come back, won’t he?”

The others’ eyes were watching her more closely, interested, but Rey couldn’t avoid Delphine’s question.

“Yes, he will.”

Embarrassment aside, Rey was exceptionally glad that Delphine and her delegation had come. She needed a solid victory amid weeks of drudgery, debate, and battle. The Gungans’ arrival gave her a much-needed boost to withstand the complications she was constantly up against with every initiative.

Rose finally gave her absolute declaration that Rey had recovered her full strength, and Rey lost no time in burying herself in the work she set herself. Her desire to forge a new nation was her chief motivation, of course, but as weeks turned into months, she also needed the distraction from Ben’s continued absence. She was determined to prove herself to her naysayers, and when she retired to her rooms at night, she was organizing her notes on meetings and reports and setting her brain to the task of solving every single problem.

This kept her from those lonely moments when Ben loomed large, moments she wanted to both push away and indulge. Two more letters came, each a month apart and as unsatisfactory as the first had been. Those were the nights, though, that she indulged, allowing herself to look at the stars again and wonder if he watched them and thought of her, too.

Rey was as busy as ever, though the work was becoming less disorganized, when Finn told her he wished to escort Rose back to Bacca, where she would officially finish her training with Dr. Kalonia. Finn also wanted to find his sister once Rose was settled. He had been interested in the reports from the Resistance members who came to Theed, but since they hadn’t said anything about Jannah specifically, he needed to take matters into his own hands to find her.

“And when I do, I might want to stay for a while,” he admitted hesitantly. “I spent my childhood in the eastern hills, and I need to get to know my sister again. I’m more than happy to serve you, Rey, but it’s important to me that I find Jannah. And if she’s still there, where our home was, then . . . Rose will only be a canyon away,” he finished sheepishly. “We can exchange letters faster from that close.”

Rey’s heart was pricked at painfully. So there was that possibility for her friends. She should be happy for them, and she was. But there was no mistaking her envy, and she hastily gave her blessing before she could give voice to the aching in her breast.

Ben also intruded into her thoughts whenever she was engaged in the business of reducing, reassigning, and simply overhauling the army. She met with commanders, but wanted a more personal account of the efficacy of the military and its leadership. Aside from Matthias the deserter, she hadn’t met anyone on her journey who could advise her on the inner workings of the Naboo army. That is, until the former Knights of Ren came out of the woodwork.

Alek and Victoria had remained at the palace, and through them, the knights who had joined the army under Ben’s command gathered and met with Rey. To all others, they seemed a random collection of soldiers picked from assorted units in the army. She never corrected the assumption, nor did the knights. Through her association with Alek and Victoria, she came to realize that they all had their own paths of restitution to walk, just as Ben did, and she would gladly give them the opportunity to begin again.

Their reports on trustworthy commanders, training protocols, and the benefits and drawbacks of a military presence in various locations were invaluable, and they gave additional information that Rey hadn’t even considered asking about. Occasionally she marveled that she was seeking their company at all, considering her first impressions of them. But they shared their observations freely and offered their swords to her wholeheartedly. That they would so easily give her the loyalty they gave Ben was incredible; she suspected that he had long planned for them to follow her. She was touched. But she could not dwell on it, lest she give way to tears.

So she continued to hole herself up in her rooms, letting the candles burn late into the night, working ceaselessly. It was one of those late evenings, a couple of nights after Finn and Rose left, that Luke knocked on her door.

Rey made him wait while she finished her notes on a council meeting in which her former adversary, Lady Neruna, had been utterly irritating, challenging Rey at every turn. Rey just had to show her up. It was petty, perhaps, but it would be immensely satisfying.

“You know,” Luke began casually as Rey set down her pen at last, “it would be a shame for you to work yourself to death just as soon as you’ve gotten well again.”

Rey tried not to be annoyed, but there was a flicker of it, anyway. “There’s a lot to do.”

“You’re right,” he agreed neutrally. “But this is what councils and committees are for. You’re coming into your own, Rey, but that doesn’t mean that you can do everything all at once, and especially not by yourself. That’s impossible even under the best circumstances.”

Rey sighed, rubbing her forehead and trying not to whine. “I just want everything fixed right now.”

Luke nodded. “I can understand that. But you’ve taken on a gargantuan task, dismantling and rebuilding just about everything, and that takes time. It’s a slow, careful process. You can’t allow people like Lady Neruna to goad you into thinking you have to present solutions to every problem within the space of a day. That’s too steep for anyone to handle, and it’s a sure way to make mistakes. You need to delegate occasionally so you don’t kill yourself.”

“Who can I delegate to?” Rey demanded tiredly. “Who do I trust?”  
“What have you been doing,” Luke asked, his eyes digging into hers, “being closeted with all these different people if not figuring out exactly who will carry out your goals and offer their own talents and ideas to support you? You’ve studied several of them since you first were brought here. Use what you know, and stop thinking you’ve got to do everything yourself.”

He was right. But it was hard to give up control. Rey narrowed her eyes at him. He must have a reason for coming here and telling her this now. “You’re not going to be around for much longer to remind me to slow down, are you?” she asked.

“Just until the coronation.”

Which was another month away, at the end of the summer.

“And then who will take up that responsibility of looking out for me?”

“Friends. Trusted advisors,” Luke said promptly, and then leaned forward. “The occasional political rival aside, you’re swiftly winning partisans every day. And while they may not all become close personal friends, they all have an interest in your welfare. You may find that those who _aren’t_ your close friends are the ones who will be more blunt about telling you that you’re running yourself ragged.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “Everybody has an opinion.”

“You’ll learn to sift through them. And,” he paused, now looking uncomfortable, “I hesitate to say this, but it needs to be said. You might consider the benefits of a partnership. Someone to help you shoulder your burdens more . . . personally.”

Rey immediately gave him a flat glare. “You mean marriage.”

“I mean that you will have offers,” he pointed out. “Even a repetition of some that came before.”

Rey forced herself to breathe slowly, and looked at her hands. “You know why I won’t consider that.”

“I know. But it’s something you won’t be able to avoid. If you want to secure your family line -”

“I don’t care about the Palpatine line,” she exploded, shooting to her feet and crossing to the study window. The stars were difficult to see with the fire burning in her room. “I never did. It can die out after me for all I care. That was only an argument for the emperor; it’s never meant anything to me. I’ll appoint a successor if I have to. I’m not interested in marriage and a family unless it’s with Ben.”

There was silence behind her, and she turned, her voice a little softer. “You think I’m foolish.”

“No,” Luke said immediately. “As whatever we are,” he gave a crooked grin, “and as Ben’s uncle, I’m proud and glad and sorry.”

“But as a political counselor . . .” she led.

He inhaled as he considered. “In that capacity, I’d say you’re probably more naive than foolish. No matter the rumors taking shape, you will still have proposals.”

“Rumors?” Rey stepped forward curiously.  
Luke lifted his hand in a flourish. “Of the romance between the new Queen of Naboo and the long-lost Prince of Alderaan. You have admirers who are simply eating up the gossip, but that won’t deter the more ambitious suitors.”

Rey stammered, “But people know . . about me and Ben?”

“There’s no hiding that when you returned from the north, Ben miraculously reappeared and was seen at your side at the gates of Theed,” Luke said, giving her a look that told her she should have expected gossip. “Talk probably began among the guards that accompanied you, and with their testimony of Snoke’s death publicly known, everyone knows that Ben fought alongside you. And if you were fighting together, what more must have been happening between you? The prevailing story is that when you disappeared from Leia’s court, you went into hiding with him and the months you spent together resulted in . . .” he trailed off, his mind looking for the right word, “the inevitable. And any speculation in that way is helped along by anyone who overheard Delphine’s comments when the Gungans arrived, or by Rose mentioning that he hardly left your side when you were ill.”

Rey blushed. She should have realized that from the moment she emerged from hiding, stories would begin circulating and Ben would feature prominently in them.

“Related to this is the theory that he vanished all those years ago with a secret mission to bring down Snoke and restore you to your proper place. That’s setting aside the fact that it’s been nearly six years since he left, which makes the timeline a little sticky. Others even say that it was him you escaped from Theed with last year, even though there’s ample proof that it was your friend Finn. But gossip will latch on, no matter the leaps in logic one has to make. Of course, there’s an element of truth in what people are saying, but no one knows the real story outside of our little circle. No one has guessed that you spent all those winter months cooped up with a grumpy hermit and his faithful servant. It’s much more romantic to imagine you huddling together with Ben for warmth.”

Rey pressed her lips together pensively. “So how would you say the people see him? In these stories about our romance?”

Luke looked slightly amused, but answered her seriously. “There’s an element of mystery about him, but he is overwhelmingly viewed in a positive light. If he fought to bring down Snoke, he’s a hero to nearly everyone.”

She leaned herself on the edge of her desk, meeting Luke’s eye earnestly. “What do people say about Kylo Ren?”

Luke leaned back, his eyebrows raised. “Surprisingly little.”

“There must be something,” she insisted.

He shrugged. “Really, it’s not much. People assume the Knights of Ren disbanded of their own accord when they vanished in the fall. And ever since Rugor’s group came forward to give testimony to how the Knights defied Snoke’s orders, public sentiment regarding them has softened. If anybody speaks of Kylo Ren specifically, they assume he’s dead. That Snoke found out about his betrayal with the Gungans and had him secretly executed, and that’s why the rest of them scattered.”

“No one thinks he’s Ben?” Rey asked warily.

“So far, no.”

“But there is still that possibility,” she said morosely.

“True,” Luke agreed. “You know that you will always have opponents, and they’ll be on the hunt for anything to discredit you -- or at the very least, embarrass you -- and anyone close to you.”

“And even if no one ever makes that connection, he still wants us to be apart.” She shook her head. “I’m beginning to understand more why you and Mara left.”

Luke nodded. “Yes, that was the choice we made.” He cocked his head. “But if you’ve proven anything, it’s that you’re not me. If you were, you never would have left with him. You don’t have to make the same choice. But you do need to decide if Ben is worth the risk, in case his past is exposed and this heroic perception of him isn’t enough to dispel all the judgment.”

“I know he is,” Rey immediately replied, her stubbornness rising up within her. “Like you said, I’m always going to have opponents. I have them now, and I’m still not willing to give up on what I think is right. That includes him.” She paused. “If it did come to light, would public sentiment turn against him?”

“Hard to say,” Luke said with a shrug. “He could be derided just as he has suspected he would be, or the people would laud him for rehabilitating himself, since there is clear evidence that he has. It could easily go either way. Do you still think he’s worth the risk?”

“Yes,” she said firmly, then sighed. “Of course, we’re talking about this as though he has decided he can marry me, after all. Which he hasn’t.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Luke said enigmatically.

Rey’s head shot up. “Do you know something?”

Luke paused. “I know a lot can change within a few months. The shifting reputation of the Knights of Ren is proof of that. I also know that you and Ben are not the only stubborn people in the world. His mother, for example, can be a mule.”

Rey bit her lip, hopeful but also a little guilty. “I don’t want him to be bullied into marrying me.”

Luke’s face changed in an instant and he threw his head back in a laugh. “Then you shouldn’t have let him go to Leia. She is not a woman to brook opposition. And I can guarantee that she will be on your side; she will make certain Ben knows it.”

At Rey’s concerned look, he went on a little more seriously, but his smile remained. “She won’t bully him, as you say. But she’s a valuable ally for you. She’ll gladly chip away at him if there’s a possibility she’ll get grandchildren out of the deal.”

He leaned forward and reached out his hand to squeeze hers, comforting and fortifying. “Don’t lose heart. There’s hope yet.”

* * *

The next month passed in a flurry of activity. Rey took Luke’s advice to heart and tried her best to delegate responsibilities and put at least a little trust in those council members who showed some promise. She opened her eyes to also see that while she had been so focused on the challenges ahead of her, which were many, and the vocal opposition, who were few, there was more loyalty and approval of her than she had realized. She finally began venturing out into the capital, taking stock of what she saw and simply being with the people. The former Knights of Ren, functioning under a new identity of the Queen’s Guard, probably had palpitations at the way she meandered through the streets, but she paid them no mind as she sought for anything that might give her balance during this hectic time.

She sent a longer letter to Chandrila and stopped avoiding the stars, as well.

Life was as busy as ever for her. Despite her efforts to reduce the amount of time spent at her duties, the coming coronation and the chaos surrounding it filled in the time she thought she had cleared. But, although she wasn’t terribly pleased at the necessary display as she formally took her throne, she occasionally enjoyed some of the time devoted to planning it. At least, the menu made her salivate in anticipation, and she was looking forward to wearing the blue gown being fashioned for her without being pricked by countless pins.

The coronation itself would be conducted by a newly ordained archbishop that Luke had practically commissioned to bring over to Naboo, thanks to some old contacts of his at the Dagobah monastery. Hux had instantly bolted when word arrived in Theed that Snoke was dead. Rey didn’t care much where he went, as long as it wasn’t in Naboo, so when a patrol sent a message that Hux had slunk across the southern border into Endor, she was satisfied. Officially he had been stripped of his priesthood (again, thanks to Luke informing his religious brothers of Hux’s perfidy), and hopefully he would not be put into any position of influence again. Rey didn’t have a strong opinion yet on the new priest that would conduct her coronation, but he seemed likable enough, if a little timid.

The week of the coronation was unlike anything she had ever seen. The streets of Theed were crowded and joyous, banners and decorations strewn across buildings, and the slowly improving economy of the capital boomed and practically exploded with the influx of visitors: Naboo citizens who came to see their queen crowned, casual travelers from other lands who were looking for a good party, and diplomats who would report back to their nations of the progress the as-yet-uncrowned queen had made the past four months. She hoped she didn’t disappoint any of them.

A large feast was set for the night before the ceremony, and that was the day the most prestigious dignitaries arrived. Rey was both anxious and enthusiastic to meet them all, and she had to repress her annoyance at the manner in which she would see them. If it had been her choice, they would have all gathered together at once and she would be able to meet them in one fell blow. But custom ruled the day in this instance (she had to concede to tradition occasionally), and custom dictated that she meet each visitor one at a time and accept the gifts that they brought. She was absolutely certain that she would make an absolute hash of the whole business of speaking individually with so many people.

She was not stuck in the throne room alone with these visitors, fortunately. Finn had temporarily returned a few days earlier, Jannah in tow, and her growing circle of friends set up a regular rotation to keep her company throughout the morning. They were as efficient and punctual as her Guard, who took up their own posts in the throne room. At least she wasn’t left to fend for herself during the more dull encounters, which there were a few. And the tokens they offered were rarely enough to make up for the awkward conversations she had to suffer through.

Not every meeting was dull or awkward, however. There were skilled ambassadors who were able to converse easily, and were also wise or experienced enough to know when their time drew to a natural close. The gifts they bestowed were usually more interesting, as well, a better representation of the provinces they originated from, and Rey’s fingers itched to study the offerings up close rather than let them be placed on the long table that sat along the wall.

None, however, had the incomparable charm of the chosen representative of the Bespin Ruling Council. Lando Calrissian strolled into the throne room as if it were his own, gallantly took Rey’s hand in his, and gave her a winning smile as he bowed over it. Rey was taken aback at his pluck, but the twinkle in his eye won her over instantly. This was a meeting she had unequivocally looked forward to, anyway, having heard his name from both Leia and Luke. Luke, in fact, had deliberately chosen to take his turn at her side when Lando arrived, and the pair greeted each other like brothers, embracing heartily after Lando released her hand.

“You’re very kind to come so soon after your last journey to our borders,” she said after the old friends parted.

“Ah, yes, well, I’m sorry to tell you that my last journey didn’t end in a satisfactory manner,” Lando replied with a playful grin. “In fact, it was utterly anticlimactic. We were promised a fight, and before we had a chance to lift our swords or bows, we were summarily informed that the entire proceeding was to be cancelled. Not the outcome we expected at all, to come all that way just to turn right around and head back home. So I came back to make up for that disappointment.”

Rey’s answering smile was tinged with a little regret. “I must apologize for the inconvenience I caused your people, if you’ll allow me to use such an insignificant word. You all marched to war on my behalf, and I am indebted to you. I know it came at a cost, not only of preparations but of fear and anxiety for your nation. I don’t know exactly how to make up for that.”

“Rest easy, your Highness,” he said kindly. “Inconvenience, fear, and anxiety there may have been, but you rewarded us by allowing us all to return home safely. I was never one to run from a fight, but that doesn’t mean I went out seeking unnecessary ones, either. There may have been some grumbling, but overall, we were glad to go back to Bespin unscathed. You fought the battle so we wouldn’t have to, and we are grateful to you for that.”

Rey didn’t wish to dwell on what she still considered her past mistakes, and Lando shrewdly recognized that a change of subject was in order. He clapped his hands, rubbing them together in anticipation and looking back and forth between her and Luke.

“I understand that a ball is being held in your honor tomorrow evening once the ceremony is ended. Might I tempt you to grant me a dance? Don’t let my age fool you; I’m still very light on my feet. And I have been informed that you didn’t dance at all at the single ball you attended in Aldera. We must make up for that travesty.

“I also understand Chewie and Maz will be here today,” he went on without waiting for comment. “I hope so, because I’ve been looking forward to spending some quality time with those pirates.”

Luke answered this time. “Yes, they’re here, although we haven’t seen them yet. We thought Rey would like to spend more time with them than anyone else -”

“Besides me, I hope!” Lando interrupted with mock dignity.

“Besides you, of course,” Luke amended indulgently, and Rey bit back a laugh. “So they’re at the end of the roster to give her Highness that time without making anybody else wait.”

“Very reasonable. Very considerate,” Lando mused. “My bet is their gift won’t be able to fit on that table, eh? It’ll be too noisy and smelly to allow in the palace.”

“Chewie’s already done so much for me,” Rey said, “that I think it would hardly be fair to expect a horse.”

“Well, you are a queen,” Lando pointed out cheerfully. “It’s only fitting that you receive queenly gifts. But I speak out of turn. Perhaps they have scrounged up something better for you.”

And on that enigmatic note, Lando bowed and breezed his way out the door as easily as he had come in. Rey shared a look with Luke; Lando’s manner left her feeling something like breathlessness. And that confused her.

“Is it always like this with him?”

“Yes,” Luke replied bluntly. “Lando has a way of speaking that makes you think he knows something you don’t and you want to spend all your energy trying to find out what it is, so you feel as if you’ve just been through a tornado when he’s done with you. It’s a little exhausting after a while. I’d forgotten about that until this minute.”

Looking back, Rey would laugh that she thought meeting Lando would be the extent of her breathtaking experiences on this day. As much as she felt a little adrift following their encounter, his flitting about did not truly steal her breath away. No, that came later when the chamber door opened a final time to admit who she expected to be Chewie and Maz.

The person who entered the throne room was _not_ Chewie, nor Maz.

It was Leia.

Both Rey and Luke gasped at her unexpected appearance, and Luke immediately strode forward to meet his sister as she glided unnaturally calmly toward them. Rey didn’t move so quickly. In fact, she rose from her chair rather slowly in stunned excitement. If Leia was here . . .

Leia happily returned her brother’s embrace, and when they separated, she turned to Rey and extended a hand. Rey’s energy returned with a startled shake, and she bounded toward Leia eagerly. Leia’s arms were warm and gentle, hugging Rey to her with a tenderness that caught Rey off-guard. They pulled back, but Leia kept hold of Rey’s hands, her smile fond and proud.

“I must congratulate you, your Majesty,” Leia said with a secretive gleam in her eye.

Rey blinked. Technically, she didn’t merit the title until the following day, but she wasn’t about to dispute Leia. Glad as she was to see her, Rey’s mind and heart were racing with hope, wondering if Leia came alone, or if she had brought her son back with her. She didn’t trust herself to speak, knowing that if she did, she would be abominably rude and immediately focus on Ben rather than pay any civil attentions to the queen in front of her.

Leia’s smile deepened at Rey’s awkward silence, thankfully not offended at the way Rey’s eyes darted to and fro in silent entreaty. “I know just what you’re thinking,” Leia speculated confidently. “You’re wondering, ‘Where’s Leia’s gift to me?’”

Beside Rey, Luke chuckled.

“You’re wondering what offering I’ve brought to lay on that table,” Leia continued, that gleam in her eye now teasing.

“I -” Rey began, and shook her head with an embarrassed huff. Leia was not far from the truth, and she knew it.

“Well, I did bring a gift, but I’m afraid it doesn’t fit on that table. Well,” she pulled up in consideration, “maybe it does, but he’d be terribly uncomfortable being placed on top of some of those knick-knacks. So I put him somewhere he’d be kept a little safer.”

Rey’s chest felt full to bursting, and she nearly shook with the urge to rush out the door and find him. But Leia kept a firm grip on her hands, and the teasing left her expression as she patiently waited for Rey to look her in the eye again. When she did, Leia’s countenance was soft and compassionate, yet also sober.

“I trust you will treat him with care,” and sudden tears pricked at Rey’s eyes at the pleading in Leia’s voice. “He is the most precious thing I have to give, and I would not part with him now if I didn’t know you regarded him just as much. But in giving him to you, I ask a favor in turn: that you will occasionally share him. I spent so long without him, and I do not wish to be parted from him for too long after finally getting him back.”

Leia’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she made her plea, and Rey squeezed her hands, feeling the weight of her trust and bittersweet joy.

“I will never keep him from you,” Rey whispered, barely managing to hold back those threatening tears. It wasn’t easy; the way Leia spoke sparked an irresistible hope that her unwavering dreams regarding Ben were about to be fulfilled.

“Then I won’t keep him from you any longer,” Leia said with a small shove on Rey’s hands.

Rey was off in a flash, picking up her skirts and running for the door. But before wrenching it open, she belatedly remembered her manners, and swiveled back, crossing the distance to throw her arms around both Leia and Luke.

“Thank you,” she hurriedly whispered, hoping they understood the intensity of her gratitude even as she abruptly abandoned them.

“He’s in your study,” Leia whispered back, and Rey was tearing out the door again a moment later.

This really was an inconveniently large palace, Rey determined as she passed confused visitors, hurrying past them without a second glance. It was absolutely ridiculous that the throne room and her study were so wretchedly far apart. Her next project would be to gut the place entirely and place the necessary rooms right next to each other. She raced up the stairs, ignoring the strange look from the pages stationed at the bottom and top. Nothing was going to stop her.

She didn’t even pause to put herself to rights before hurling open her study door.

At first she was afraid Leia had played some cruel trick on her. The man facing the window did not wear his familiar dark green cloak, but a gray-blue cape of fine material that matched the color of the ocean at Ahch-To. He looked more a prince than a captain. But the raven hair, the broad shoulders, the face as he turned from the window to look at her . . . it was the same. And as she looked into his eyes, she saw him.

“Ben,” she breathed. Her Ben.

A tentative smile played on his lips, the same fearful happiness that was overtaking her shining through him, though with the barest hint of trepidation. He doubted that her reception of him would be wholeheartedly joyful. She must cast aside that doubt as quickly as possible.

She slammed the door closed behind her and catapulted herself across the room, into his waiting arms.


	30. A Complete Tapestry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey embraces her chosen fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my goodness, it's the end. This story evolved to be so much more than I initially expected, and it's been nerve-wracking and exceptionally fun. Thank you so much for your support and comments; they've really given me a huge boost. Now, onto the long-awaited conclusion, complete with fluff, banter, a bit of steam, and that happily ever after we all crave. Thanks again!

Rey almost immediately began to cry as Ben crushed her to him. She hadn’t known how many emotions she could feel at once, the loneliness of the last few months all the more potent in contrast to the relief and gratitude that she was in his presence again. Hope that Leia’s intimations meant that Ben was here to stay with her as she wished. Excitement and pleasure and freedom from every trouble that had weighed her down. Everything released from her in wracking sobs, and she clutched at him while burying her face into his shoulder.

Ben was patient, holding her steady as she shuddered against him, waiting for the storm to pass. As the sobs began to dim and she stopped shaking, he brushed his lips over her hair and his hands stroked her back in soothing circles. The reminder of his gentle touch sent sparks through her while also calming her. It was all very contradictory, but Rey didn’t mind either feeling. She adjusted her hands to hold him more securely, and the last of her tremblings died away as she breathed her first real, plentiful breaths in months.

“Rey,” he uttered softly, his inviting murmur bringing her head around to meet him. There was no hungry fervor, but also no hesitation as he bent his head and kissed her long and deeply. It was a kiss that was passionate, yet still; intense, yet peaceful. It was a kiss that felt like home.

When they parted, but not without a few short pecks to reassure themselves that this wasn’t a dream, Ben met her gaze regretfully. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Rey was caught off-guard at this bizarre opening statement. “What? That was nothing to apologize for,” she assured him with a teasing smile.

He returned her smile with a rakish expression. “I hope not.” They laughed softly for a moment, and he allowed his forehead to rest against hers. “But I am. Sorry,” he reiterated seriously.

She stroked his hair, running it slowly between her fingers. “What for?”

“For those ghastly letters,” he replied promptly.

“Mine weren’t any better,” she assured him quickly.

“For leaving the way I did. And,” he paused, a familiar self-loathing in his eyes, though it had lessened in severity, “that for some reason I still can’t get that blasted lesson through my head.”

Rey cocked her head curiously.

“That I can’t be right about everything,” he clarified with a steady, penetrating look into her eyes.

Rey thought she knew what he meant, and her chest began to heave a little; she hoped desperately that she didn’t misunderstand him. “What were you wrong about?”

“About myself. About us and what staying apart would really be like,” he said, strengthening his gaze on her, and her breast felt tense and light all at once. “But I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”

Her eyes warmed, her smile tender as she laid her hand to rest on his cheek. Hadn’t he known that she was never truly angry with him? Frustrated she had been, but she always knew why he felt as he did, which made the next words easy. “I forgive you.”

He gave a tiny jolt of surprise. “Just like that? You forgive me?”

If it was possible to laugh and shake him at once, she would do it. In fact, she could do both, so she did, but none too sharply. Leia had asked her to take care of him, after all, and the possibility that he was offering himself to her despite his deep-rooted demons made her grateful and impatient at the same time. “Ben, do you really want us to be debating right this moment? It’s been months, and I forgive you, and I hope you’ll forgive me, and I don’t want to waste time arguing now that we’re finally together again.”

Her voice had lost its breathy quality as she gave him that mild scolding, and somehow it was effective in banishing Ben’s remaining incredulity. He gave her an impish smirk before drawing her to his mouth again. Shorter kisses, perhaps, but more playful than that initial reunion kiss, and even a little provocative. Rey truly had to catch her breath when he pulled back again.

That impish curve of his mouth remained. “What do I need to forgive you about?”

“Well, I wasn’t terribly understanding,” she said contritely, and the curve to his lips dimmed. “You carry a weight with you that I wanted to just set aside; all I could do was be selfish. And you weren’t trying to hurt me, not really. You were trying to help me understand that you were thinking of my future as Naboo’s queen.”

He shook his head with a lenient expression, but she spoke before he could absolve her of responsibility. “Now before you contradict me and tell me I wasn’t so bad, you need to know that sometimes I wanted to march into Alderaan, find you  _ and _ the nearest trough, and throw you in,” she admitted.

His shoulders shook in a silent laugh at that. “You think you could have lifted me?”

“I would have tried,” she asserted.

He seemed even more amused at the obstinate look on her face, and then bent to kiss her again. “That certainly would have been an entertaining strategy to win an argument. But I will say, I don’t think you need to resort to that kind of violence. I kind of like arguing with you the way we already go about it.”

“Oh?” she replied archly.

“I enjoy it much more than arguing with my mother. You want to know why?” She lifted an eyebrow. “Because you actually give me the respect to let me argue my side of things. Leia does not allow me the same privilege,” he told her frankly.

“In general, or because you’re her son?”

He raised his eyebrows in skeptical inquiry. “Have  _ you _ ever won an argument with her?”

Rey hesitated. Her mind was agreeably engaged by the feel of his arms encircling her, and it was reluctant to think of anything else. So she wasn’t able to determine any time she might have debated anything with Leia. But she could believe it would have been a fruitless effort if she’d ever really tried.

Ben explained the process, trying to sound morose but utterly failing. He clearly spoke in admiration. “She’s very good at talking over you and not allowing you to get a word in edgewise, so you’re forced to just listen to her lecture, and no matter how much you might disagree at first, she always makes you come around to her way of thinking. She’s a force of nature that cannot be contained. And what she says always ends up making sense.”

“Such as?”

He caught her gaze again in that steady, meaningful look. “That it’s well and good for me to want to make reparations for my past, but it’s ridiculous to think I can’t do that at the side of the woman I love.”

Rey had to remind herself to breathe.

“And that I would be better able to make amends if I was ‘at the queen’s right hand’. Better equipped, better supported, all of that. She made a list, actually, of exactly how each wrong I did could be better corrected if I accepted the position.”

“You make it sound as though I’ve offered you employment.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “In a sense. There are duties and responsibilities I would take on, after all. Rectifying my offenses would have to be encompassed in that.”

Rey nodded slowly. 

“She also told me that I shouldn’t ignore the advantages of my new-sprung reputation, however undeserving of it I am.”

“Not undeserving,” she said decisively.

He ducked his head. “Not entirely, but it’s still not wholly based on truth. But maybe, it would be enough so that your rule would not be too tainted by me.”

Rey bit the inside of her lip, fighting back more arguments in his favor. He spoke far more hopefully than she had ever heard from him, but she sensed he wasn’t in a state to listen to more adulation. And there was no doubt that they really were standing on the brink; she wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything. “Did Leia say anything else that made sense?”

That rakish smirk appeared on his face again. “That I’m fooling myself if I thought that both of us were going to control ourselves if you agreed to my conditions four months ago.” Rey ducked her head in a deep flush at Ben’s words, but he wouldn’t allow her to avert her eyes, and tilted her chin up. “You said it yourself, that it’s foolish to long for each other when we’re both right there. I know I would eventually give in.”

An image of Ben lying above her, pinning her under his strong body, flitted through her mind, further inflaming the red in her cheeks, and she confessed, “So would I.”

His eyes had darkened as they roamed over her, but he merely nodded at her admission. “So if we’re not going to keep our hands off each other, we may as well be sanctioned properly.”

His phrasing made her chuckle, dispelling a little of her blush. “And that’s why you will now agree to marriage? To sanction our . . . activities?” She still couldn’t quite imagine speaking as bluntly about intimate relations as Delphine did, and settled for vague substitutions.

Ben’s expression sobered and he replied earnestly. “No. I want to be your husband. More than anything my mother said, the unbelievable pain of missing you these last few months convinced me that I couldn’t be satisfied with less. There’s a long way to go for me, and there are risks, but I’m willing to face them with you. If you still want me.”

Rey was struck again in the chest at his heartfelt declaration. “Of course I do. I want to be your wife, come what may.”

They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, and Rey felt as though the very air held its breath. Had they just determined their future? Was it really that easy?

“Is that it?” she asked shyly. “Are we betrothed now?” She smiled playfully. “Was that your proposal?”

Ben drew back from her fully, holding only her hand in an exaggerated, proper manner. “In such cases as these, protocol dictates that it is for a sovereign to formally propose marriage when a suitor presents himself as a viable candidate.”

“A viable candidate?” she repeated ironically.

“A worthy partner.”

Rey’s smile faded a little. Months before he had used that word, proclaiming himself unworthy of her hand. It was not insignificant that he used that word again. “You turned me down before,” she reminded him.

“You never formally proposed,” he pointed out matter-of-factly.

“So . . .” she trailed off, and bit the inside of her lip. Why were there still nerves fluttering in her belly? “Do you accept?”

“Yes,” he answered, the gleam in his eye exciting her despite his serious tone. “I do.”

And he pulled her close again.

After several minutes, they finally broke apart, panting heavily and rearranging their dishevelled hair (and in Ben’s case, re-tying the front of his waistcoat, that had somehow become partially undone).

Rey adopted a business-like manner to regain some control over her body. “Well, there’s a lot to do. We’d better find Mitaka and make the necessary arrangements.”

“Mitaka?” Ben looked up as he finished the task of reordering himself.

Rey began to walk toward the door. “The new archbishop. He’s conducting the coronation, and now we need to tell him he’s conducting a wedding, as well. He won’t argue; I think he’ll be too afraid to.”

Ben’s whole body jerked in shock. “A wedding? What -”

Rey whirled around. “You just agreed. You’re already going back on it?” she challenged with a raised eyebrow.

“No, but -”

Rey crossed back over to him, laying a firm hand on his chest. “I’m not taking the chance that you’re going to talk yourself out of this. And I don’t want to wait any longer to be married to you; I’ve got to claim you while I can.” She hopped again toward the door. “And besides, we’ve already got a crowd gathered. What’s the point of bringing all these people back again? It’s perfect.”

“Rey, slow down,” he followed her warily.

“Well, and then there’s the question of what should come first, the wedding ceremony or the coronation. Unless we can mash them together in one,” she considered, tapping her fingers against the handle.

Ben stood before her, his eyes boring into hers. “You really want this?” he asked, searching her face.

“Yes,” she replied determinedly. “I really want this. I will never not want this.” She placed another decisive kiss on his lips.

Ben shook his head in bemusement, and he sounded totally surprised as he said, “All right. Let’s find Mitaka.”

Rey beamed triumphantly. “Good. And I’ll ask him his opinion on what should come first, especially since I want to be certain I’m crowned under the proper name.”

Ben’s hand shot out and stopped her from turning the handle. “Wait, wait . . . proper name?”

Again, Rey was determined, no matter the argument. “Well, if I have a chance to shed myself of the Palpatine name, I’m going to take it.”

Ben stood still, his expression pensive as he took in her words. “So you’d . . .”

“Take your name,” she finished for him.

Ben looked like he wanted to argue, but wasn’t sure how to begin.

“This is a problem?” she asked.  _ Another one? _

“You’ll have opponents on that decision,” he said carefully.

“I have opponents on every decision; I’m getting used to it,” she asserted blithely.

“One of them will be my mother.”

That did make her start. “What?”

“She didn’t take my father’s name. She kept the name of the royal house. She’ll tell you you’re setting a dangerous precedent, a female sovereign submitting to her husband’s name.”

Rey considered for a moment, then searched his face herself. “Do you think I’m submitting to you?”

His lips curled suggestively, and he grazed his fingers down her neck. He leaned in, his lips hovering just over hers. “Not yet.”

Rey’s breath caught in her throat. After years of failing to understand the carnal impulse, now she was so susceptible to this mutual desire that even a few minutes of delicious caresses weren’t enough to hold her. Leia had been right that Rey and Ben couldn’t have possibly avoided a bed (or a wall, for that matter) for long. “Don’t try to distract me,” she ordered breathily. “There’ll be plenty of time for that once we’re wed.” A corner of his smile deepened as he stood up straight, and Rey was able to remember what they had just been discussing.

“Ben,” she said deliberately. “I don’t want to be associated with that name anymore. I won’t deny that it’s the family I’m descended from, but it’s a relic of the past. There is a future ahead of us that I want to make new. I want a name to be proud of, a name that we share.” She took his hand in hers. “Do you remember what you told me, that first night in the cave? After I told you about Liecia? Do you remember what you said?”

He didn’t take long to answer. “You’re not alone.”

A comforting warmth enveloped her at the repetition. “Neither are you. We’re taking these steps together. I want the name I bear to show that.”

“You don’t think ‘Rey Solo’ sounds like a smuggler?” he remarked skeptically.

“I think ‘Rey Solo’ sounds like ‘Ben Solo’s wife’. It sounds like ‘Ben Solo’s family’. That’s what we’re starting.”

He stared at her in amazement for a few moments before leaning down to kiss her again.

“You’re still going to have to convince my mother,” he stated against her lips.

“Well, then, it’s a good thing we’re in Naboo, and  _ I _ am the queen here.”

* * *

To Ben’s surprise, Leia hardly fought the name issue at all. She was so delighted that they were proceeding quickly that her mild disapproval lasted for scant seconds. She immediately insisted on taking charge of any modifications to the coronation celebrations, and Rey got to witness firsthand what Ben had just told her about Leia’s ability to lecture people into her way of thinking.

In a matter of perhaps an hour, Leia had worked out the ceremonial details with Mitaka (who Rey had been right about being too timid to protest the additional responsibilities), met with the necessary artisans who might quickly create an appropriate coronet for Ben (which he protested strongly, but Leia had entirely ignored him rather than bother arguing), strong-armed the palace steward into ordering more food for the ball so that it might double as a wedding banquet (a day’s advance was more than sufficient, she claimed), and led Rey through an inspection of the private family rooms so that plans for refurbishment could be made. Leia was very firm on the subject of potential grandchildren; she absolutely expected them.

Leia’s efficiency aside, Rey and Ben still had hardly a moment to themselves. The day was already far gone by the time they had been reunited, and there was still the little matter of coronation duties, which included a rehearsal of the ceremony with the stuttering archbishop, an appearance in the capital square, and the feast to attend. Rey had been looking forward to it, anyway, but her pleasure in the evening was elevated as Ben sat by her side, whispering into her ear and seeing to her every comfort.

The toasts she had been dreading were no longer so repugnant since their focus wasn’t solely on her. Leia rose first and announced the marriage of her son, Prince of Alderaan and Duke of Chandrila (so he did still hold that title, Rey thought), to the Queen of Naboo. So every goblet that was raised to her was now also raised to him. Ben hated the attention even more than she did, a consequence of being out of practice in such gatherings as well as his belief that he didn’t deserve any praise or accolades. Chewie gave a toast that made the tips of Ben’s ears turn pink, and he sent a death glare to warn Luke away from following suit. Luke wisely remained seated.

Rey didn’t bother to inform Ben that his behavior, so focused toward her and so dismissive of the attention, only piqued the public’s interest in him. Luke’s report of Ben’s reputation had been highly accurate. Ben held a certain heroic mystique, one that worked to his advantage, since it made the people more benevolent as they speculated on the reasons for his behavior. His blatant repulsion of public notice, for example, could have been considered rude, but was attributed to shyness. He might need to work on that as the years passed, she thought privately. Another fight for another day. Right now, she focused on his flattering fixation on her. In fact, she reveled in it, considering how long he had resisted showing her any sign of his adoration. There was no concealment now, from either one of them.

As the revelers began to disperse and they were not subject to such close scrutiny, Ben stole her away to the moonlit courtyard. There, nearly in the very spot he had watched her dance a year before, he alternated between adoring words and alluring kisses that severely tested her self-control. When he asked her to keep her balcony window unlocked that night, she agreed before she knew what she was doing, and the thought of what he might have in mind made her body tense in excited apprehension as she awaited him.

As it happened, Ben had no plans to seduce her that night. To avoid the guards in the corridors, he scaled the outer wall with the same ease he had done that memorable night in Aldera, dashing and dangerous. But he did not pull her to her bed, only out onto the balcony. It was one of those rare late-summer nights in Naboo that the skies were not covered in stormy clouds, and he wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to watch the stars together.

Rey settled onto the gravelly floor of the balcony and backed up against Ben’s chest, his knees on either side of her and his arms wrapped around her. She shivered and he adjusted the folds of his green cloak (which he claimed concealed him better than that princely cape, but she suspected he wore tonight because she had grown terribly fond of it) to cover her more fully.

“I can’t see Ren and Kira from my room,” she said softly, looking up at the sky. “My window faces the wrong direction.”

“You  _ are _ the queen, you know,” he replied, his breath tickling her ear. “If you want to switch rooms, there is no one to stop you.”

“It seemed such a little thing to be bothered by; I didn’t want to put anyone out.”

“Well, you are getting a husband, and it seems to me that we’ll need a proper suite that’s big enough for the two of us, so now you have your excuse. If you want the right view of the sky, you should get it.”

“Are you happy, Ben?” she asked suddenly, a little grateful that she couldn’t see his face.

There was silence for a while. “I’m with you,” he replied, his voice husky. “That’s more than I deserve.”

“But does that make you happy?” she pressed. “This path you’re on, I want it to lead to your happiness. I want to see you really smile.”

“Rey, look at me,” he said seriously, and she tilted her head to the side to meet his eyes as best she could. “You shouldn’t shoulder the burden of my happiness.”

“I’ll be your wife in less than a day, Ben. I think it’s usual for husbands and wives to wish for each other’s happiness, and try to make each other so. Don’t you want to make  _ me _ happy?”

“Yes,” he conceded her point. “But I don’t want you to think you’ve failed if there are days I just can’t be made happy. And there  _ will _ be those days. I can’t just snap my fingers and forget my past. For your sake, I wish I could. It will always be there, and I will always be trying to make up for it. Often that will mean a painful day, or more.”

“I know.” She paused. “There might be days  _ I _ can’t be made happy, either.”

He chuckled. “You’re right. There will be days when we just put up with each other.”

She snuggled back into him. “Right now that’s hard to imagine, even for me.”

“Me, too.”

“But even on the worst days, we won’t leave each other. We won’t give up on each other,” she said confidently, then hesitated. “Right?”

“I won’t leave you,” he assured her quietly.

“Good. Because we’re better together than apart.” Rey looked back up at the stars, wondering which constellations Ben hadn’t told her about yet.

He broke the silence after a minute or two. “I  _ am _ happy. Right now. With you. You . . . make me happier than I ever knew I could be.” Rey’s lower lip began to tremble and her eyes filled with tears. “I love you, Rey. I love your compassion, and your bravery. I love that you won’t give up on me, even if I can’t always understand why. I just . . .” his voice disappeared into emotion. “I just love you.”

Rey couldn’t speak at first for the joy that filled her nearly to the point of pain. A tear dropped onto her cheek, but she wouldn’t shift any part of herself out of his arms to wipe it away.

“I love you, Ben,” she murmured. “I love your devotion and the way you spin a story. I love your ferocity and your will to defend. I know that agreeing to all this hasn’t been simple or easy, but thank you for wanting to make me happy. You do. I’m happy right now with you, too.”

Ben tipped her head back again to kiss her, tears mingling with their lips. And when they had watched the stars so long that her head began to droop, he carried her back to her bed and tucked her in with gentle hands. When she awoke in the morning, she could still feel the press of his mouth on her brow.

* * *

Rey had expected the day of the coronation to be hectic, and once she and Ben piled a wedding on top of it, she expected it to be downright chaotic. So she was surprised that the morning was fairly sedate. She was not rousted out of bed the minute the sun broke as she had predicted, and the hours passed in a leisurely manner. Ben was nowhere to be seen, but Leia told her he was well in hand and taking care of the responsibilities that had been thrust on him by her impulsive decision the afternoon before.

Leia and Maz kept her company, sharing stories of pirate ships and diplomatic battles. Rey tried not to show how much more interesting the pirate stories were to her, lest she offend her future mother-in-law. Delphine dropped in, handing her a box tied with a linen ribbon, and telling her with a ribald smirk to open it that night before bed. Rey blushed heartily, while Maz laughed loudly. Maz and Delphine were two peas in a pod as they encouraged her to be more open and forward, declaring that her groom would have no complaints if she was. Rey tried not to be too mortified by the more direct things they said, but she did feel her nerves quaking in her stomach all the same. She may be ready to share Ben’s bed, but that didn’t change the fact that she had never done so before, and knowing the mechanics of it didn’t make her any less of a novice.

She and Leia were left alone after a while, though, a courtesy Leia had asked for the evening before. Leia directed Rey to sit on the stool at her vanity, and for a moment Rey was afraid that now was when Leia would give her advice about her wedding night. But as Leia began combing her hair, Rey realized Leia had something else in mind entirely. Leia parted Rey’s hair into strips and began weaving and braiding them in intricate patterns. She didn’t say anything at first, her concentration never wavering from Rey’s hair, and Rey felt strongly this was a solemn rite, so she remained silent, as well.

At length, Leia finally began speaking. “Occasionally I wondered,” she said, eyes still on her task, “what it would have been like to have a daughter. Han, for all his wonderful qualities, wasn’t enamored of our braiding tradition, and kept his hair too short for me to work at, anyway. Ben was self-conscious about his ears, so his hair was always long enough to hide them, and long enough for me to do something with. But as we grew apart, he wouldn’t sit for me. So this is something I haven’t done for a long time, at least not for somebody else, and never for a daughter.”

She tied off a braid with a thin silver ribbon and laid her hands on Rey’s shoulders. “Thank you for loving him, and for giving him a second chance at life. These last few months have been so wonderful for me. Difficult beyond belief sometimes, but wonderful, and I only wish . . .” She brushed away a rogue tear. “I’m afraid words just aren’t enough. But thank you for my son. And thank you for letting me do this for you. You are a part of our family now, and I couldn’t be happier.”

Rey couldn’t let Leia’s words go unanswered, but words failed her, so she stood and hugged her close for a long time. Then, with embarrassed laughs they helped each other wipe their tears away, and Rey was set back down.

The only advice Leia gave her was as she tied off the final ribbon. “Let Ben take your hair down. Trust me.”

As leisurely as the morning had been, the momentous afternoon was a blur in which only curious details stayed with her. The heavy weight of the coronation crown on her head. The sweat dripping off of Mitaka’s forehead as he painstakingly recited the ritual words. The silver that was threaded through Ben’s black waistcoat, meant to match the ribbons in her hair. The itch on her nose that she desperately wanted to scratch when the silent audience rose to their feet to honor her. Chewie’s loud guffaw echoing over the din of the people when the ceremonies were finally done. The humid air that made her sweat when she made her presentation to the citizenry outside the palace.

The flash in Ben’s eyes when he first beheld her in her gown. The touch of his hand when he knelt before her and swore his fealty, honor, and devotion. His caress when he slipped the simple silver band over her second finger. Just Ben, really.

And when the pomp was over, she was a queen. She was a wife. She belonged to the people, and she belonged to Ben.

The ball that followed it all was far more enjoyable than the stiff rituals that had bound her to her chosen fate. Rey allowed the tension to slip from her shoulders as Ben slumped into his chair beside her and ripped the thin coronet from his hair. Rey smothered a grin; she thought he had looked quite fetching in it, really, but she couldn’t blame him for casting it aside. It wasn’t as though she wanted to wear that cumbersome crown much longer, either.

The banquet that Leia ordered was done quickly and without fanfare, as the guests were more interested in mingling and movement rather than being forced into more sitting after a whole afternoon of it. A couple more toasts were made to queen and consort, but not nearly as many as the previous night, and Rey was much happier accepting individual congratulations from the well-wishers that passed by her and her husband.

_ Her husband, _ she repeated to herself in amazement.

Her husband claimed the privilege of first dance, which she gladly accepted, but again she felt totally unprepared. One of these days she would have to learn the traditional steps that the Naboo and Alderaanian courtiers knew from childhood. Fortunately, Ben had supported her insistence that they not be forced to display themselves alone on the ballroom floor, and in the crowd of dancers he guided her along discreetly. She tripped a couple of times, but he was always there to catch her, and the experience was so pleasant she contemplated tripping on purpose. Ben’s arms were possibly her favorite feature. They certainly gave his eyes some competition.

When the first dance was ended, Ben reluctantly handed her off to Lando, who had come to claim the dance she had never actually agreed to. He was a little more vocal about her mistakes, but never unkind, and she enjoyed herself, spinning under his arm and finding Ben on the edge of the floor, always watching.

A few more dances had to be spared to others, Luke and Chewie and Finn, plus a couple of other dignitaries who would not be dissuaded. But as the evening progressed, Ben became more possessive, deftly steering Rey far from anybody else who threatened to take her away from him. When they danced again, he held her closer, and the heat of the room made her dizzy in his hands. General chatter and gaiety began to fade into the background, growing more distant each time she met his eyes. The intensity was becoming overwhelming, and, nervous as she was, still she thought that if they had to wait much longer to be alone, she might just throw caution to the wind and order him to carry her out over his shoulder.

Whether it was coincidence or divine design, the focus on her and Ben slowly began to dwindle, the guests talking more amongst themselves than seeking her out. And that was when Ben made his move. He was subtle at first, simply taking her hand and casually strolling about the edge of the ballroom. But the instant they neared an exit, he yanked her out and broke into a dead run, Rey breathlessly laughing at his heels.

They rounded into a dimly-lit corridor, and he pinned her against the wall, unable to restrain himself. For a few exquisitely impassioned moments, his luscious mouth assailed hers, and his hands were not content to remain in only one location. Rey’s breaths quickly turned into gasps, and she could hardly stand with the eager way her body responded to him.

“Ben,” she breathed between kisses, “Somebody could . . . still see . . .”

He growled against her lips, but obeyed her implicit plea and released his hold on her. She offered him her hand in a temporary compromise, and they walked, albeit very quickly, the rest of the way to her bedchamber.

Her demurral in the corridor had cooled a little of his desperate ardor, and the sight of the bed intensified Rey’s nerves, so they didn’t precisely attack each other once the door was shut. Instead, Ben took her face into his hands gently and caressed her lips with his. And when Rey led him to her vanity rather than the bed, he looked bewildered for only a moment before comprehending what it was she wanted him to do.

Untying the ribbons and unbinding her hair was a more swift task than braiding it had been, but Ben still took his time. His fingers massaged her scalp where her hair was freed, and he rarely looked away from her image in the mirror as he felt his way along. Rey began to understand why Leia had made this particular suggestion.

The anticipation aside, there was a solemnity to the process that mirrored the practice of braiding her hair in the first place. The braiding had bound her to tradition and family; the unbinding, the air growing heavy with want at each step, tied her to her husband. The thrumming in her body returned with each loosening of ribbon, and her breaths became short and fast the longer he took to unravel each braid. As he let the last strand fall, her lips parted as they stared at one another. In the mirror, she saw him kneel behind her and gather her hair to one side, laying the other side of her neck entirely bare.

He pressed a hot kiss against the sensitive skin, and she gasped, letting her head tilt to the opposite side. He took advantage of the opening, laying more kisses along her neck, and the rhythms of her body grew more frenzied as she yearned for more. Her sigh was enough signal for him, and he spun her around with great alacrity, allowing them to crash into each other. Hands fumbled at laces and kisses were punctuated by some awkward laughter and hurried apologies, but soon her remaining inhibitions were floating away with every fervent touch. When he carried her to the bed, she gladly surrendered to the unknown, no longer nervous or afraid. She was safe in Ben’s arms.

Exhausted by the events of the past month, and satisfied by the fulfillment of passion, Rey easily drifted off to sleep. Some time in the night she awoke again, unused to the feeling of another body beside her in the bed, and nearly attacked on instinct. Fortunately, she remembered where she was and who was beside her once she realized that the bare chest she used as a pillow was Ben’s. He woke up, as well, startled into his own warrior reflexes at her sudden movement. Their shared battle instincts prompted a few moments of slightly macabre humor, but once they sobered, they both realized their dilemma -- they were wide awake. Ben didn’t wait long to innocently suggest what they might do to tire themselves out again. They set to it hastily, and somehow more eagerly than before, since they were both now a little more used to the proceedings. Afterward Rey lay beside him in contentment, listening to his breathing steady into slumber.

It was then she remembered Delphine’s still-wrapped gift, but she smiled slyly to herself that whatever it was could wait for a different day. Delphine’s presumptuous assumption of Ben’s aptitude as a lover was not far off the mark. Not that Rey had anything else to judge him by, but based on the cries he’d already managed to draw out from her, she was confident that she had no cause to complain.

It was not the sun that woke her up in the morning, but her husband, who was nibbling lightly on her earlobe. It tickled in a pleasant sort of way, but she couldn’t help teasing as she opened her eyes and stretched. “You are insatiable, Ben Solo, did you know that?”

He turned her body to him and gave her a long-suffering look. “Nearly three years, Rey, don’t forget that. Nearly three years I’ve wanted this and never thought it was possible.” He gave her a searing kiss. “Won’t you indulge your patient husband?”

She was not at all inclined to refuse him, but she wouldn’t relent just yet. “Patient? Who dragged whom out of the ball last night?”

Ben was peppering her neck with light kisses now. “As though you weren’t itching to get out of there yourself. Don’t think I didn’t see you.”

“Who is sovereign here, I’d like to know?”

“In Naboo, or in our bed?” he breathed into her neck, and she giggled. To the first choice there was no doubt of the answer, but the second was still up for debate.

“But it’s day now,” she argued feebly, though with a blush when she remembered exactly how she had reacted to him in the middle of the night. “Won’t somebody hear us? I didn’t know I could be so noisy.”

“I know,” he spoke with great relish. “I enjoyed knowing that I am such a quick study.”

“Really?”

He pulled back a little, peering down at her from his perch. “Really. It makes me happy to know you are,” he said softly, skimming the tip of his forefinger down her arm.

“And how can I return the favor?” she asked with a provoking slant of her eyes.

He grunted. “You can stop talking and let me make love to my wife.”

“Will you be as noisy as me?”

He smirked again. “I don’t know. You’ve already set a pretty high standard.”

“Mark my words, Ben Solo, I will learn how to make you . . . noisy,” Rey tried to sound authoritative, but ended a little shyly as she couldn’t come up with another word.

“I look forward to your research, Rey Solo,” he replied before capturing her mouth with his.

Between kisses, Rey murmured breathily, “Ben?”

“What?” he growled impatiently, pulling back with exasperation.

She pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh. Once the temptation was gone, she smiled fondly and carded her fingers through his hair. “I love you.”

He paused for a moment, the exasperation dying away into an expression that was almost pensive. Then he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I know.”

And Ben smiled. A real, honest-to-goodness, wide smile as he let out a breathy laugh of joy and humor. Rey had thought he was beautiful before, but now that she was finally granted this gift, he was dazzling. Her heart burst wide open and she pulled him to her.

Rey’s imagination served her well. She could envision so much: peace and prosperity for her nation; holidays to the Lake Country where she would see the lake glitter like a sapphire; visits from long-time friends, loving queen mothers, and boisterous and grumpy uncles; rides on horses whose coats shone like obsidian; a child, then two, then more. She could see it all. But mostly she could see Ben at her side.

There would be more days like this, with unalloyed happiness and bright prospects. And there would be days that were dull in comparison. And then there would be days that were draining and awful and frustrating. But through them all, she knew that they would walk together.

Today was a good day, and right now, she had all she wanted.


End file.
